


Becoming Doctor TJ Eckleburg

by roadtripwithlucifer



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Adultery, Angst, Cancer, Depression, Drug Addiction, Falling In Love, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Minor Character Death, Recreational Drug Use, Top Jensen, just a lot of sadness and sad fucked up people learning to love again, just seriously though there is a ton of angst, not a ton of shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadtripwithlucifer/pseuds/roadtripwithlucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sixteen years of training, Jensen Ackles is finally about to finish his education. At the age of 36, he's a highly revered surgical oncologist, bachelor, and the protege of world-famous Dr. Collins. Jensen has had his entire life planned out, down to where he'll live, when he'll get married, and how many kids he'll have. That is, until he meets the young surgeon who wants to take his spot.</p>
<p>Jared Padalecki has always been emotional, too close to his patients, and never quite fitting the "doctor" mold the world built for him. So when he gets a chance to meet Dr. Ackles, whose reputation for being quiet, cold, and terrifying precedes him, he couldn't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The end was finally in sight.

Jensen could feel it. He couldn't articulate it - didn't know if he had the words.

He stood in the doorway of his apartment, focusing on his shadow cast on the polished wooden floors. There were no obstacles on the floor to distort his shadow - no pets, no books, no art on the walls. The apartment was pitch black, eerily silent, clean to a fault.

A model home for a model life.

Jensen's hands unconsciously start to tie knots in a loose string hanging from his jacket - a habit he picked up from obsessively practicing his surgical knots in medical school. Now here he was - the end of his surgical training, in a dream apartment in his home state. His parents never stopped talking about him, his siblings both envied and adored him, and his coworkers admired him.A better man would have been thanking his lucky stars to have what Jensen has. Jensen, he perceived, was not this elusive "better man."

Hell, he's 36. He's accomplished everything he's ever worked for. A couple of years ago he would shoot the shit with his classmates, complaining about how many of his 'good years' he'd be giving up for this career.

Then _why the hell_ , now that he was finishing, now that he was ready to step into the role of a member of a human race rather than the "doctor-in-training" he's been since he was 16, does his gut clench and his heart race?

Why did it feel more like a bomb than a fireworks countdown?

He scrubs his hands over his unshaven face. He steps forward and shuts the door behind him, leaving him in complete darkness. His senses deprived, he finally allows himself to think the thought that he’s been trying to escape for his entire life.

What else is there?

* * *

 

Jeff snaps. "Hey man, did you hear me?"

Jensen looks up from his plate of food, dazed. Jeff was typing something on his laptop in front of him, but his eyes were focused on Jensen.

"Right, so, what case did you need a referral on?" Jensen asked wistfully.

He's known Jeff for years, enjoyed his upfront nature, and had lunch with him at least once a week. Their quick eating was exclusively coupled with patient referrals and case reports and was it really so bad to _NOT_ think about work?

For a minute?

Jensen just has a lot of his mind. But Jeff doesn't need to know that.

Jeff scrunched his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. He stoped typing, closed his laptop and leaned forward clasping his hands. Jeff has a gift for body language considering how much body he had (6'6", all limbs, long hair), so it was pretty clear that Jensen had just fucked up.

"No, I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

"My younger brother,” Jeff repeats. “He's about a year from finishing up his residency right now and he's looking into fellowships. I was telling him that if he's interested in Surgical Oncology, you're the guy to talk to.”

Jensen picked up his fork and absently used it to spear a few baby carrots on his plate.

"What was his field of research? Where did he go to medical school? How is his ranking as a general surgeon?" Jensen bit into his carrots.

"Ackles, don't do this. Don't analyze him. I just want my little brother to know what he's trying to get into. From friend to friend. This isn't an interview. Just talk to him. I'm going to give him your information, alright?"

What Jensen **wanted** to say was no.

He wanted to say that Jeff's brother can shove it. Doesn't Jeff realize that dozens of students e-mail him daily, that nervous young residents shyly come up to him, asking for advice, clamoring to him like a scalper wielding messiah? He wanted to say that he's not a surgery hype - man. That he did three mastectomies today. That he couldn't garner the sympathy for terrified families as they clamored to him, desperately asking if their mother-sister-girlfriend-daughter was free from cancer. He wanted to tell him that if Jeff truly wants to reference his brother, he should have referenced the man into dermatology.

Or, even better, go into a field where you can actually see the good in people.

Like acting.

"You know I'm about to graduate, " Jensen started. "They're giving me a ton of easy cases to get my surgical stats higher. Its not the best time -"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard this speech before," Jeff interjected.

"Which is why I'm asking for you to meet him outside the hospital. Right now is the best time to talk to the kid - you know, since you're jaded and all." Jeff smiled and Jensen laughed dryly. That has been their running joke since they met each other in their residencies - 'surgery makes you jaded.'

For some reason, it wasn't that funny today.

"Ackles." Jeff repeated. His face softened and he leaned back in his chair. Jensen watched him. They both knew that Jensen was going to agree to doing this.

"Remember you helped me decide on that arthoresleropic surgery fellowship in Colorado?"

Jensen nodded. Of course Jeff was going to use this.

"You talked me through it, man, and now I'm doing a job I love. All I want is to work that magic on my little brother. Is that so much to ask?"

Jensen sighed. You do one good deed and people never forget.

"Okay, Padalecki. Give your brother my information. I'll talk to him.”

* * *

 

One thing they don't tell you in medical school is that emailing becomes a 7th sense. That, after 16 hours on your feet, you better make time to answer the dozens of emails that filter in throughout the day.

Luckily, Jensen could answer most in his sleep. Which is probably why he didn't bat an eye when he received an email from padalecki@bcm.edu. Also probably why he opened it immediately, ready to review one of Jeff's cases. Jeff liked to share curiosities - like when he's setting bone and finds metastatic cancer.

Its like a sick version of hide and go seek. It tickled the fuck out of Jensen.

_From:jared.t.padalecki@bcm.edu_

_To:jensen.r.ackles@bcm.edu_

_Subject: Case - T.J. Eckleberg_

_Dr. Ackles,_

_This is Dr. Padalecki. My good brother, Dr. Padalecki, implored me to send some clarifying information to you, as for you are a dick and want to know you are not wasting your time._

_-Top 5% at UT Houston Medical Center_

_-Top 3 surgical residents, Baylor College of Medicine_

_-Research - 1st author, Minimization in Deformity in Patients with Facial Tumors_

_-32 years old_

_-Very tall._

_-Maxim Top 100 Hottest Doctors (#5)_

_-Am friends with two (2) dogs_

_-Saw Bill Murray once (in person. Lots of times in movies)_

_'Wow!' You may say. 'This kid, he seems great! Smart! Rude but in a sexy way! I want to meet him immediately!' Honestly, it would be an honor to pick your brain, doctor. Lunch and/or beer on me. I’m looking forward to meeting you!_

_Best regards,_

_Jared Padalecki, M.D_.

 

Jensen rubbed his eyes and looked over the email again.

'Did... did he call me a dick?' Jensen mumbled to himself.

Did this person, who wanted his help, send this awful email? Jensen immediately typed Jared Padalecki into Google.

On the Baylor webpage, a blurry picture of a man in the mountains was coupled with a similar description.

_Dr. Jared Padalecki attended University of Texas Houston where he received his bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering. He attended University of Texas Houston Medical Center, graduating top 5% on his class. Dr. Padalecki is completing his surgical residency at Baylor College of Medicine. He enjoys running, football, a playing with his dogs._

Underneath the description were links to three published papers. Jensen hated to admit it, but the kid had impressive credentials.

Extremely impressive credentials.

Jensen closed his laptop and rubbed his eyes again.

Jensen liked the fluorescent lighting of the hospital - it kept him sharp, alert, helped him work. Here, the angular lamps that dotted his apartment gave off "ambient" lighting, which was completely useless.

But he hadn’t chosen the lamps, really, or any other thing in this apartment. He didn’t even pick out the apartment, as he recalled.

His sister Mackenzie, an enthusiast for properties and design, arranged everything. His little sister worked so hard to find him the perfect place. Jensen wished that he didn't hate it so much.

He recalled the Thanksgiving that Mackenzie took his housing situation upon herself rather well. That was the same Thanksgiving when he told his family that he’d be staying in Houston for the next few years.

"You're obsessed with work!" Mackenzie had wagged her finger at him as if he was a child. "How are you ever going to bring a girl home if you're a surgeon in your 30's who can't even pick out his furniture? Don't kid yourself. I'm going to pick it all out. It will look smart and modern and cool, like you, right, stud?" Jensen smiled through his mashed potatoes. It was an awkward sort of funny - he was the only one in his family there alone. His older brother Josh was married and had his wife and kids with him. His baby sister, who wasn’t much of a baby since she was 28 at the time, was married, teaching middle schoolers geography, and had a house in the suburbs.

His parents looked at him expectantly.

"You know," his mother said, playing with the napkin. Her hands showed her age, wrinkled fingers rolling the paper between her thumb and forefinger. There were a few freckles on the finger than held her wedding ring. Jensen swallowed his bite and immediately put another forkful into his mouth.

"Mack is right, Jensen. Maybe when you’re done with this fellowship, you can be done with school, huh? You can get a nice, steady job and finally settle down. I know your life has been a whirlwind, son, and we're proud of you, but you're not getting any younger…" Jensen laughed and shot a grin to his mother, praying that it seemed convincing. His father, Alan, didn't change his expression, shooting him a stern look that immediately wiped the smile off Jensen’s face.

"I know, I know… don't worry about me, Momma. The world isn't going to miss out on this prime genetic material." Jensen pinched the cheeks of Josh's younger son, who sat in a high chair, completely covered in mashed potatoes. Josh's older son David, and Mack's two kids, were sitting off in the corner, all playing Mario Kart on David's Nintendo 3DS.

"I have an 8 year old son…" Josh joked, pocking Jensen in the ribs. "And you don't even have a girlfriend. Who is the successful one now, baby brother?"

Another "ping!" from his computer brought Jensen back to the present. Another notification from jared.t.padalecki@bcm.edu

_Subject: Did you ever wonder_

_Good evening! (Again?)_

_If what I know about you is true, then you might be sufficiently intrigued to humor me, so lets hope you humor me! Jeff told me that your older brother's name is Josh and younger sister's name is Mackenzie? Did you know MY older brother's name is Jeff, and my younger sister's name is Megan? Isn't that wild? The J J M for both of us? And how we're both going into the same field of medicine?_

_You know what I think?_

_I think me and you are the same person, but from alternate universes, and there was some kind of universe bubble, and one of us bubbled into the other universe, which is four years ahead or behind, I guess?_

_I’m not a physicist, but you are, so you can let me know how feasible that actually is._

_And now we're the same alternate universe versions of ourselves, and if we meet, do you think we will end existence?_

_Please respond._

_Or don't, man. I don't know what might happen if we play with the fabric of time and space._

_Best regards,_

_Jared Padalecki, M.D._

_P.S. Sorry I called you a dick._

Jensen couldn't believe what he was reading. Its not that his students didn't often come in with an odd tidbit of knowledge about him.

They have - one particularly hazardous one brought him Cowboy's tickets as a thank you.

But this one... this one?

This Jared Padalecki kid was sending stream-of-consciousness letters to a man he's never met. A man, Jensen thought, who was too respected to joke around with like this. Jensen was stern but fair, right? Why would someone...

...think it was acceptable to be this comfortable?

Jensen grimaced. His digital watch read 11:37 pm. Jensen breathed out his nose and mentally kicked himself. He had a 6 am surgery.

This night, along with hundreds of other nights, Jensen went to bed for a dreamless sleep. This night, unlike the other hundreds of nights, he couldn't fall asleep right away.

Should he meet with the younger Padalecki? It would be important to Jeff - and Jensen IS Jeff's friend. But the kid is already irritating him and he hasn't even typed one word to him. The worst part was - the young Dr. Padalecki was right. He HAD intrigued Jensen enough for Jensen to humor him.

Jensen rolled over in bed and tried to shut down his mind. His alarm clock sat diligently on his bedside table. Sometimes, it seemed like his closest and most intimate friend.

* * *

 

Yawning, Jensen walked into the locker room.

Quickly and efficiently, he stripped out of his street clothes - pressed button-down and jeans - into his scrubs.

One thing they DO tell you in medical school, is that wearing scrubs is a lot like wearing pajamas all day. Days like today made Jensen seriously consider whether this was why he chose surgery in the first place. Nurses and doctors alike nodded their heads and averted eye contact with him.

Without niceties, his coworkers assisted him with putting on his gown, his gloves, his goggles. A few glanced at him nervously, trying to watch him without him noticing. Jensen felt immediate relief - he hadn't suddenly become a friendly teddy bear. The Padalecki brother was just rude because he didn't know him.

That had to be it.

After all, his work - well, it was like ripping off your shirt and taking off your glasses and revealing you were Superman.

Scrubbing in was neither work nor leisure, a moment in between, of purgatory, and those few minutes were vital for Jensen.

"Ackles!" boasted a voice in the back of the room. The thin, dark frame of Dr. Collins, Jensen's mentor and attending, reached precariously behind the surgery suite computers, attempting to find a place to plug in his iPad. When Katy Perry's voice filled the room, Dr. Collins waved Jensen to his side.

"I'm excited for this one. AND. I want you to take the lead. This is a bit more complex than what you've been getting lately, but gotta challenge my star pupil, right?" Jensen grimaced. Dr. Collins may be brilliant, but he was eccentric and unaware. Inexplicably, people were drawn to him like flies to honey.

He was particular about his companions. Dr. Collins liked to have the same staff at all his surgeries, which fluctuated from being an honor to to being a fear.

Jensen had just recently switched to feeling honor.

"Okay, Ackles, here’s the rundown. Some of this you'll see in the chart. Some of it you won't. The girl is 25 years old. Alcoholic. Hepatocarcinoma, but caught pretty early - Stage 1. Tumor still seems to isolated in the liver. The main issue is the tumor's location. The tumor conveniently grew between the two lobes - so lobectomy is out of the question. There is significant cirrhosis of the liver, so we need to be extremely careful about what we cut off. She's young but not eligible for a transplant."

Dr. Collins looked into Jensen's eyes, letting the significance of that statement sink in.

Dr. Harris, their team anesthesiologist, entered the room a few minutes later. She looked perturbed, and approached Jensen and Dr. Collins immediately. "

There are issues with anesthetizing her. She's built up a tolerance to the drugs we're giving her. I'm suspecting unreported amphetamine use. The more I put in her system, the larger likelihood we have of hurting her kidneys, or stopping her heart." Dr. Collins and Dr. Harris spoke in hushed tones, weighing the pros and cons of increasing the drug amounts to dangerous levels.

Jensen shrugged. Seems like the decision is obvious. Without the surgery, she’s dead anyway.

"Put her under. We need to give her a fighting chance. If anything, being in the hospital will be a temporary detox." Dr. Collins stated. He paused and nodded to himself. Softer, he said,"Put her under."

Dr. Harris nodded and left the sterile surgical room, leaving a heavy silence between Dr. Collins, Jensen, and the two surgical nurses, Nurse McNiven and Nurse Murray.

When the bed with the young girl entered the surgical room, another hour has passed. Dr. Harris shot Dr. Collins a determined look, watching the vitals carefully. Jensen recoiled. Dr. Collins has TOLD him she was young. But, laying on the surgical table, she _looked_ young.

She was tiny, with wispy dark hair and yellowing skin. And there she lay in front of Jensen, younger than his baby sister, her body a battleground. The sight of the girl was so distracting that Jensen had not noticed the man that accompanied Dr. Harris and the patient.

"Who is that?" Jensen whispered to Dr. Collins, pointing to the young man. He was unfathomably tall, shaggy long brown hair peaking out from under his surgical cap, body slender. He seemed like he might have been her boyfriend, from the way he wouldn't take his eyes off her. He was hunched over, his massive body seeming to protect the girl's failing one, his large hands gingerly stroking hers. The young man squeezed the girl's hand and broke away, coming to stand by Dr. Collins. The two men glanced at one another. The younger was a head taller than the older man, his gaze steady, his jaw rigid.

As if on queue, the young man pulled down his mask, flashed a gargantuan smile of even white teeth. He immediately hopped, draped his body all over Dr. Collins, and landed a big kill right in the middle of the man's forehead.

Jensen's jaw dropped.

"Misha! Oh man, can I tell you, I'm psyched that its you here today! I was worried about Amy and its my day off but I wanted to see her off to surgery and I'm SO glad its you! How have you been! And Danneel is here today too! That’s fantastic!” He waved to Dr. Harris, “Chad! Julie! AND…" The young man turns just his heels in a stunted movement and directs his gaze to Jensen.

The boy had a smile which brought out dimples, making him appear innocent and young, although the lines around his eyes show that there is age and experience behind them. His eyes themselves were interesting - blue, or green, with a golden, or brown, ring around the iris. The fluorescent light of the surgical room enveloped him, making him appear angelic. His brown hair floated slightly away from his surgical cap, looking gold in the light.

Dr. Collins stepped between the two and slapped both Jensen and the young man on the back.

"Dr. Ackles, I would like you to meet Dr. Padalecki, the applicant for your position next year."


	2. Chapter 2

Jensen stammers.

"Wh…what??"

The man grins and grabs Jensen's gloved hand in both of his. 

"Jensen! Yes! We've talked, remember? I'm Jeff's younger brother! I'm doing my residency in general surgery here! And you see…" Jared motioned to the young girl, Amy, on the operating table.

"I was on call when she came in, complaining of severe abdominal pain. Tons of CT and PET scans later, well… You know what’s going on. And I've known Misha," Jared gestures to Dr. Collins nonsensically,"for a while, you know, because I got in touch with him when I wanted to do this field, I mean, right when I got out of medical school!"

Jensen looked to Misha in desperation. Misha only shrugged and refocused his eyes on the babbling child, that, supposedly, was one of the best surgeons in this hospital.

"Anyways, I wanted to come by here and see who was operating on her! I was worried, you know, the cancer and the cirrhosis and not having her on a transplant list!" Jared gestured in exasperation.

Misha watched him with amusement, Jensen with what was quickly bordering on annoyance.

"Anyway, I'm excited to see this." Jared concludes, with a tone so chipper it seemed that he had forgotten he was here to see a surgery that could potentially kill the patient. 

Jensen felt his gut tightening. This arrogant, annoying, motor-mouthed kid is Jeff's brother?

And... _wait_. Didn't Misha just tell him...

"You already applied for my spot?"

Jared's smile faded and he blinked twice, raising his eyebrows.

 "You asked me to help you, tell you about the experience, but you already know my mentor, and you already applied for my spot? What is this?"

Misha cut in before Jared could muster a reply.

"Lets do this later. Its almost 8 am. This will be a lengthy procedure. Jared, do you care to stay and watch?"

Jared nodded enthusiastically and put his face mask back over his mouth, although his eyes crinkling gave away his smile.

"By the way…" Misha said slowly.

"Jensen is going to be in charge of this one."

Jensen glanced to the kid, who appeared to be brimming with excitement. He forced himself to avoid rolling his eyes and walked toward the patient.

Jensen's movement spurred an elegant dance in the surgical suite. Nurse Murray began to read the list of supplied, Nurse McNiven checking them off on a spreadsheet. Dr. Collins read the patient's chart, double checked her wristband, and quickly updated the staff on the operation.

Jensen wrapped his hands around the first scalper that Nurse Murray was holding out to him. He held it motionless for a few seconds, eyes darting to the tall young surgeon peering at him from across the room.

It was an odd sensation. Jensen wanted to clench his fists, wanted to kick the kid out of the room because the blood boiling in his veins made it too hot. He breathed in deeply, placed his left hand on the patient's abdomen, and made the first incision.

* * *

 

Well, he never expected it to be easy.

That said, Jensen felt sweat accumulate on his brow continuously throughout the surgery. His large hand almost occluded her abdomen, and his thick fingers seemed too large on her shriveled liver. Her blood flowed slowly, thickly, like it was tired.

Getting to the liver was half the problem. Fatty tissue overgrew Amy's vessels, engulfed her nerves. Jensen likened himself to an archeologist, scraping away carefully, slowly uncovering each vessel, knowing that if he was to cut off blood supply to any part of the severely damaged liver, it could hurt the patients - Amy's - chances of survival.

 As soon as the surgery started, friendly banter ceased. Jared was no longer holding Amy's hand - instead, he was respectfully seated away from all the assisting staff, watching the surgery on the overhead monitor. He occasionally pressed a picture switch, taking photographs of the surgery's progress.

 When the fatty tissue was cleared away and he had a good view of her liver, Jensen motioned for Dr. Collins to come forward, and Jared followed immediately.

"I don't know how much here we have to work with. At least 40% of the left lobe looks nonfunctional, and I can't get a good look at the expanse of the tumor unless I make a direct incision."

Jensen nodded at Nurse Murray. "Do you think we can pull up the PET scan, so we can see where the most active sites of the tumor are?"

 Jared looked up at Nurse Murray and held his hand in a "stop" motion. 

"Let me do it, Chad. My hands are still clean. Literally speaking, of course." Jared winked and Nurse Murray _actually_ chuckled. Jared went to the surgical unit's computer, quickly pulling up Amy's file. Her abdominal PET scan showed up on the surgical screen, and the four doctors approached it.

Dr. Collins placed his hands over the monitor, making shapes with his finger sand muttering to himself silently. Dr. Harris spoke briskly, saying what the rest of the room was thinking. 

"You can't cut through either lobe, Ackles. Her liver is basically non-functional. She won't survive the surgery, much less the cancer."

The room became stiflingly silent.

Jared spoke next.

"Lets not make a clean cut, in that case. Looks like the metabolic point is in the inferior left lobe, approaching the hepatic ducts. If you focus on that area, we can get away with leaving some of the left lobe untouched."

Dr. Collins paused his motions cocked his head, and spoke.

"That's risky. There is a lot of blood flow there - she can bleed out if we cut through the hepatic arteries. We'll need to get some more blood. What type is she?"

 Nurse Mcniven exchanged a quick few words with Dr. Collins and left the room, in route to the blood bank.

Misha turned to Jensen.

"How comfortable are you with this? Do you think you can do it?"

Jensen shrugged nonchalantly.

"I will."

* * *

When the surgery was through, Jensen scrubbed out and left directly to the lunchroom. It took 8 hours, which, considering its complication, was quite fast. But the procedure was difficult, and he had to cauterize more small vessels than he wanted, and Amy ended up losing a lot of blood.

Dr. Collins made the right call. He always did, of course. That's why Jensen worked for him when he could have trained anywhere in the world.

She was stable. Alive - with enough liver to regrow,enough to detox, enough to get better.

But...

If there is anything Jensen knew, it was cancer. He knew that there were tiny cells swimming through her weakened body, just waiting to attach. To take root.

Jensen imagined seeds spreading across Amy’s liver, roots permeating her ribs, circling around her lung, flowering in her chest.

Jensen grit his teeth. He should have done better.

But all that - that wasn't Jensen's problem. If she came back with metastasis, then he'd cut that out too. In the meantime, he needed to eat. He already felt his blood sugar dropping.

"Do you mind if I join you?" chirped up an overly enthusiastic voice. Jensen glanced over his shoulder to note Jared following him.

"I don't have anywhere to be, and since I’ve been meaning to meet you anyways…"

Jensen grunted in response. Jared simply beamed at him and followed behind, chattering nonsensically about the patient - Amy - and how he first met her in the emergency room, the girl in tears because she thought she was pregnant.

Jensen listened only selectively to Jared's ranting, gathering second-hand patient history while overall ignoring Jared's own reflection about the girl's belly button piercing or that, when he was 25, he proposed to his girlfriend in Paris only to break off the engagement shortly after.

Maybe Jensen wasn't filtering as well as he thought.

Jeff was already sitting at their usual table, typing away at his laptop while sipping on his coffee. As Jensen neared, Jared sang, "Jeff-rey!" in his friend's general direction. Jeff took a long second to turn towards the two, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Isn't it your day off, Jay?" he inquired, his face filled with (in Jensen's opinion) misplaced frustration.

"Don't look at me like that! I was worried about Amy - you know, the young girl I told you about. She has having her surgery today and you'll never guess my luck -"

Jensen flinched as Jared's huge hand landed on his shoulder in what should have been a pat but came across as a shove,

"The best surgical oncologist on the terrestrial Earth was the one operating on her! Plus, I didn't have to trick him into meeting me in person, like you told me I would!"

Jensen shot Jeff a stern look, who smiled tensely and shrugged.

"Anyway, I'm going to go get me some lunch! I'll be right back!"

Jensen sat down across from Jeff, and Jeff closed his laptop. He put his elbows on the table and put his chin on interwoven fingers, looking at Jensen expectantly.

"You didn't tell me your brother already knew Collins. Why did he have to meet ME, if he's already applied? What are you trying to pull here?"

Jeff sighed. His expression changed from playful to serious and Jensen focused his gaze on Jeff’s furrowing brow.

"I might have guessed you'd react like that. I was hoping you wouldn't find out." Jeff took a deep breath, taking a few seconds to look for his words.

"Don't take what I'm about to say personally. He's my little brother, so know I’m looking out for him, and have nothing but the deepest respect for you."

Jensen's heart jumped in his chest. From his experience, nothing good ever came following that kind of introduction.   Jensen sat up straighter in the chair.

"Look, you're not like Misha, man. When you start practicing, people from all over the United States, all over the world, are going to come to YOU. You know what it takes to be good at this job. But he doesn't."

 Jeff pauses.

 "My brother, he - he gets attached to people too easily. He gets too involved in their lives. He's a good kid. One of the best. His talent for surgery astounds even me. But think about the aftermath. Think about your day, man. Think about the families that come to you, crying to you, trusting you to save their loved ones."

 Jensen nodded. Not a day goes by that he doesn't close his eyes and steel himself for the hopeful eyes of parents, of spouses, of children. 

"You know cancer. But its not just an illness, its an entity. It destroys families, it turns people into fearful, empty shells. So many of these people will die - and they will die slowly, and they will die in pain."

"Jay is an emotional person, Jensen. He's happy often, but his mood changes dramatically. He's the polar opposite of you. You're calm and collected. He's not. Don't get me wrong, you both make great doctors. But not the same kind. He needs to understand this before making this decision. There are other fields out there for somebody like him. But not this."

Jeff looks Jensen straight in the eyes, earnestly, and Jensen feels like he truly understands. Jeff is looking out for his little bother. Jensen thinks about his baby sister.

He's doing what any good big brother would do.

Before Jensen could reply, Jared returned.

"You need to get your blood sugar up!" Jared smiled, throwing a pack of some kind of candy towards Jensen.

Jensen looked down on it to see a bag of gummy worms.

"Really?"

Jared flashed white teeth at Jensen. Jared's teeth were a bit crooked, canines a little sharper than other teeth, mouth angled, his smile looking innocent and childish.

Jared hadn't had braces. Jensen wasn’t completely sure why he liked that so much.

"That rabbit food won't revitalize you, Jen! That-" Jared pointed to the gummy worm pack,"-is the food of real champions!"

"Champions of diabetes, maybe..." Jensen grumbled, but Jared didn't seem to notice.

Jared's tray had two burgers and a salad, which he gave to Jensen. Jensen didn’t question how Jared knew what he ate for lunch and DEFINITELY didn’t entertain the notion that Jeff pays enough attention to his eating habits and thinks they are important enough to relay to his brother.

Well, maybe he entertains it a little. 

Jared promptly devoured the two burgers with hardly a breath between them, talking animatedly to Jeff between bites. Jeff mostly nodded and uttered propagator phrases (Yeah? Oh _really_? That's interesting) when he could get a word in edgewise.

Jensen chewed through his salad in silence, surprisingly transfixed by the joviality of Jared’s table manner.

He felt so involved, connected. Like he was around family.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, Jensen received a page from Misha. Entering the conference room, Jensen was faced with a wall covered with CT-scan screens, PET scan screens, and a team of familiar oncologists. This was Amy's cancer team. Dr. Beaver, Amy's medical oncologist, Dr. Sheppard, Amy's radiological oncologist, and Misha, Amy's surgical oncologist. The last figure wasn't a part of Amy's medical team at all, but Jared Padalecki was present all the same. 

Dr. Beaver and Dr. Sheppard were loudly arguing about the course of chemotherapy versus radiation treatment for Amy's treatment, while Jared and Misha examined the screen.

The before and after PET scans were up next to each other - the second looking less colorful than the first.

"What’s going on?" Jensen implored once he neared earshot of Misha and Jared.

Jared spun around and grinned, motioning him forward. Misha stayed somber as he looked at the scans on the wall.

“First of all, Jensen, congratulations.” Misha stuck his hand out and Jensen, confused, shook it tentatively.

“This was a beautiful liver recession. PET scans show an absence of metabolic activity that we saw beforehand, indicating the primary mass has been removed. Small pockets of heat may be due to normal metabolism – at least, that’s what we’re hoping for.”

Jensen nodded. “How is her detox going?” he implored.

Jared looked somber as he brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

“It’s a struggle. She was in an induced coma for two days. She woke up today. That’s why we called you in.”

“Why specifically?”

Dr. Beaver interjected.

“We wanted to come to a consensus as a team. She has no insurance, and appears to be medically stable. The hospital is pressing for us to release her. If we can’t determine a medical need for her to stay here, she’ll be turfed out.”

Jared nodded at Dr. Beaver and turned back to Jensen, his voice assured.

“But, I did manage to pull some strings, and the administration agreed that they would be willing to send her to our conjoined rehab free of charge if we release her now. So don’t feel guilty because of the drug problem, Jen.”

Dr. Sheppard chuckled at the nickname and, despite his best efforts to appear unaffected, Jensen shot the older man a harsh look.

Dr. Sheppard raised his eyebrows and smirked.

“Jim and I have created a chemotherapy and radiation program for her after she gains back some liver function. We need to give her a few weeks for the liver to heal, but that could leave room for the tumor to metastasize. What do you think, as her surgeon?”

Jensen examined the specks of red-dots on the PET scan. They read oxygen consumption, an indirect measure of metabolic need. It was difficult to distinguish between normal metabolic activity of active organs like the liver and disease. There were no dark spots of the scans – no obvious masses. Jensen’s mind flashed to flowers blooming out of Amy’s chest and he shook his head, cursing himself for being so morbid.

“There’s no medical reason for her to stay here.” he stated definitively. 

* * *

 

 

Five days had passed since Jensen saw Amy’s surgical team, and he found himself falling into his previous melancholy.

It was 6 pm. Jensen sat in a corner of the surgery locker room, alone, listening to other doctors and nurses make small talk as they prepared to switch shifts. His elbows on his knees and his hands interwoven on the back of his head, his position reminded him of the disaster scenarios that children practice in middle school. 

Put your head between your knees, duck down, and pray.

That seemed to be the best plan he had, as well. 

From clean, orderly surgery room to clean, orderly apartments, to clean, orderly, life.

And that was simple. That was easy.

There wasn’t room for anything else in clean and orderly.

There wasn’t room for pets, for spouses, or children. There was no room for colorful paintings or walls covered with crayons. There was no room for high chairs, no room for laughter.

If only he could articulate this sentiment to the world, to his parents, to himself.

Three months until his fellowship is complete. Three months until Jensen attempts to find permanent work. Until his job and location is stable enough to make room.

Jensen curls himself into a smaller shape and tries to take up less space. To make room for the man he needs to become.

Changing into street clothes feels like it takes years.

 

Walking out of the hospital, Jensen hears enthusiastic speech and stops at a corner, anxious about the face he knows he’s about to see.

 

Today was not a good day to see painfully optimistic Jared and his complete ignorance of personal space.

 

Glancing around the corner, Jensen realizes that Jared is behind a curtain, speaking to one of the patients in the outpatient surgery unit.

 

The hallway is quiet and Jensen feels braver than usual. He peeks behind in the slit of the curtain, enough to see Jared sitting next to Amy on her bed. Next to her, he looks like a giant, and his hand on her shoulder envelops her.

 

Now that he sees Amy awake, Jensen’s heart lurches with sadness.

He often didn’t see his patients out of bed, much less spoke directly to them other than for check ups.

But Amy, tiny, frail, looking like she was in need of a good meal, with dark circles under her eyes, and ratty black hair, looked so incredibly sad that even his heart gave for her.

 

“This is a great place, Amy. There are great social workers there. They will help you back on your feet. And it won’t cost anything, okay? I took care of it. I just want you to get better. Okay?” 

Amy stared at the floor and Jared stared at her. There was a long pause.

When Amy finally spoke, her voice was a faint croak.

“What if I don’t want to get better?”

Jared enveloped her in an immediate hug and her eyes widened. Even from his position, Jensen could see the glistening tears forming in her eyes, in danger of spilling over.

“Don’t you dare. Please just try, okay? You are so important. You might not think you are, but you’re important to me. Please, just try. Even if you can’t try for you right now, try for me. Because I care about you more than you know.” Jared voice came through, choked up, ragged, and Jensen had to immediately walk away.

 

In the parking lot, in his car, Jensen chose to ignore the tear that set a home on his cheek. He refused to think that this was the first time he’d cried over a patient. The first time he’d cried over anything in years.

Things would have been much easier if Jard was romantically attached to her. If she was his sister, or daughter, or friend. But in his heart, Jensen knew that wasn’t true.

 But wouldn't that be so much easier than admitting that such a person exists in this world?

That there was a person who cared, cared so much without expecting anything in return?

He thought back on what Jeff told him and immediately knew it to be true – the job would destroy Jared.

Jared would weep himself ragged with each terrified family, hold the hand of every man woman and child, no matter how frail or undeserving.

He could never survive being their doctor. He couldn't survive being Amy's doctor.

And, if the time comes, he wouldn’t be able to survive being her killer.

 

* * *

 

_To:Jensen.r.ackles@bcm.edu_

_From jared.t.padalecki@bcm.edu_

_Subject: The endless benefits of gummy worms_

_Hey Jensen,_

_I was just thinking today – me and you, we both went through medical school and the idea that we’re supposed to eat healthy, fruits and vegetables and all, has been literally and metaphorically showed down our throats over and over and over and over and over again._

_But I think it would be better to teach it in contrast._

_Instead of saying “eat lots of fruits!” say, “instead of drinking yourself to liver cirrhosis and near-death at 25, eat fruits!” but better yet, they should teach “instead of dwelling on horrible depression and insisting on being alone even though it perpetuates self-destructive behavior, eat gummy worms and bask in the sun!”_

_They never talk about basking in the sun in school but I try to tell all the undergrads that shadow me to do that. They laugh and think I’m joking but I’m not. And then I say that I’m not joking, and that’s how I grew to be 6’5” and they don’t laugh then even though that’s part of the joke. Get it? What I’m saying is, people are like plants._

_Plans don’t grow if you water them with alcohol or if you deprive them of sunshine and, Jen, even if I measured everything perfectly and gave the accurate amount of water and soil and CO2 to each plant, it might not thrive, because plants are unique._

_Anyways, lets grab a beer and talk about Amy (that’s probably not appropriate, is it?) Coffee, then. Or, we can grab a beer and I can pick you brain like I wanted to before because Jeff keeps saying that I need to talk to you before deciding on this specialty but seeing you work makes me want to do this and seeing Amy and thinking that I could do what you did for her, yeah, I want to be that guy._

_This is email number 3 and you still haven’t replied to me which means you haven’t taken to me and that’s fine because Jeff says that nobody likes me when they first meet me because I’m “overwhelming and kind of dumb” but so is life and people get used to that._

_Best regards,_

_Jared_

 

Jensen tapped his finders on his glass table, chin in one hand. If only the kid knew that he kept digging a hole for himself. He's only showing that he can't stop thinking of Amy, can't stop thinking of people living and dying.

But, Jensen couldn't help but chuckle. Overwhelming and kind of dumb is probably right.

There was something so incredibly… free… about the way Jared spoke, about the way he thought, about the way he trusted.

Jensen thought about flowers blooming out of Amy’s chest cavity and thought, maybe Jared is right.

Maybe they were both from parallel universes, because they both think of flowers. 

* * *

 

That Sunday, Jensen sat in church.

This was part of his "put your head between your legs and pray" plan, though which part of that, he wasn't sure. Probably the pray part.

But Jensen didn't pray. Didn't like the uncomfortable pews, the droning voices. Didn't like the idea of being surrounded by people who would condemn him to eternal suffering if they knew him.

But he'd read his Bible and he spent his childhood under his father's rough hands as he tied his tie, as his momma smoothed his hair. 240 miles away his parents were probably sitting in a correspondingly uncomfortable church.

Either way, it felt like the right thing to do. Jensen drifted back to his childhood, to Saturday morning cartoons and sugary cereal and wrestling with is older brother Josh until one of them broke something. Jensen remembered his mother’s warm gaze, and how she made pancakes on Sunday mornings before church.

He remembered the gold cross necklace his sister got for her 13th birthday and how she still wore it.

He remembered a version of himself before the routine, before the perfection, before he knew.

He remembered going fishing with Josh and his dad during his summer breaks from school. He remembered his fathers stoic, serious phase in the chilly morning dawn, the quiet of the water, his fathers calloused but sure hands as he showed Jensen how to cast a line, how to bait, how to reel fish in.

But most of all, Jensen remembered the silence.

Why did they never look each other in the eyes?

When was the last time he had spoken to his parents? To Josh? Despite himself, Jensen thought of Jeff and Jared, their free and loving relationship. Jared's earnestness honestly, acceptance.

His sure hands.

His smile.

* * *

 

_to: jared.t.padalecki@bsm.edu_

_from: Jensen.r.ackles@bsm.edu_

_Subject: Case 7389221 – Hepatocarcinoma  
_

_Dr. Padalecki,_

_I wanted to speak to you about the patient’s transition into the rehabilitation institution and perhaps get some information about her progress. Would you be available within the next few days? I have a day off on Tuesday and Wednesday, and would be available any time then._

_Best regards,_

_Jensen Ackles, M.D._

_Department of Surgical Oncology_

_Baylor College of Medicine_

 

Jensen immediately closed his laptop. He bit his nails and gazed anxiously at his computer.

What the hell was he doing?

Jensen had never contacted colleagues for such social endeavors.

He had never taken up Misha’s or Jeff’s invites to the bars, to barbeques, to meet their families or their friends.

But, Jensen told himself, he had never met anybody like Jared before.

* * *

 “This place has the largest beer selection in all of Houston!” Jared boasted.

Jensen and Jared sat among other patrons in the dimly lit Lucky’s Pub. The pub was close enough to the medical school to allow Jared to comfortably come by after his shift that day, which ended at about 10 pm.

Jensen insisted to the overtly apologetic Jared that it was no inconvenience – he was spending most of his day off on the campus anyways, updating patient charts on his computer, reading up on the latest published papers in the Journal of Surgical Oncology and World Journal of Surgical Oncology online.

He usually spent at least one day a week studying new developments in his field.

Realistically speaking, Jensen wasn’t sure when he last went out for a beer with somebody. Jensen was hard pressed to remember the last time he even HAD a beer – even at home.

Now, sitting at this lightly packed bar, Jared had already began digging into his dinner, nachos and something called “The Lucky Burger” and downing a dark IPA like it was water. Jensen shifted uncomfortably in his chair – he, too, was having dinner, and was somewhat struck with how strange it must look for two grown men to be eating dinner together in a pub at 10 pm on a Tuesday.

 His fish tacos were getting cold as he silently watched Jared stuff his face.

The situation struck was odd indeed. Jared was enthusiastic, charismatic, good looking. What was he doing, having a greasy dinner with a co-worker he barely knew in a bar on a Tuesday night?

Didn’t he have somewhere to be? A home to go home to? A girlfriend, maybe?

Jared looked up quickly, swallowing his food with a huge gulp of beer and catching Jensen’s eyes. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“Is there something on my face?” Jared seemed sincerely distressed by the notion, wiping his queso-stained mouth with a napkin.

“Uh, you got it.” Jensen said quickly, feeling himself flush. He turned his attention back to his food, picked up a fish taco, and took a bite.

He thought to himself, if him and Jared alternated bites of food, they might even get through this entire meal without speaking.

Of course, he would never be that lucky.

“You know, I was thinking that maybe a fourth email might be in order, because you hadn’t responded to me for so long, and after Amy, after everything that happened, after watching your surgery, I’m even more keen on talking to you. You end your fellowship in three months, right?”

Jensen doesn’t look away from his food. He simply nods and lets the younger man continue.

“First, I want to explain myself. I know it seems odd that I have already applied for your position, and after said application I decided to speak to you. That’s no accident. As you probably know, Misha holds monthly seminars for public schools in Houston – talking about college, about going to medical school, trying to influence kids to continue their education. He started doing these as a project when he was in medical school, and I went to one of his seminars when I was in high school.”

 Jensen considered the age difference between the two men, (8 years, which seemed unbelievable considering how comfortable they were around one another) and nods again. Jared takes another bite of his burger and continues.

“My brother was always sure he wanted to be a doctor, but I was never really sure. I kept jumping from passion to passion – I couldn’t stop myself. Everything was equally interesting. For a while I was convinced I was going to be an engineer for NASA. Then, I thought, why not be a theoretical physicist? And I enjoyed debate, and was president of a few student clubs, so I thought, perhaps politics? Or law? And I could never decide. Until I saw that seminar. Until I met Misha, and his enthusiasm instilled enthusiasm in me too.”

Jensen continued to eat, although now he chewed slower. He didn’t know much about his mentor, or his “protégé,” or his friend Jeff. He felt like he started reading a prequel of a book that he decided to drop right before the finale.

“So, since then, I’ve kind of been following in his footsteps. Not directly or anything, but I had been kind of monitoring what he had been doing, in the news or articles. I mean, I wasn’t in contact with him the whole time, and if Jeff hadn’t gone into medicine, its unlikely that I would have made it. I rode on his coat-tails, so to say – same medical school, good name, all that. But I never really lost sight of Misha, of his accomplishments, and when I heard that you had gotten on his team…” Jared whistles and laughs to himself. Jensen looks up from his food, startled.

“What do you mean?”

“Man, you were… you ARE, a legend at the school. Everybody knows your name. Men cower and women swoon in your presence. The golden boy with his full-ride to Standford for both undergrad and med school, dual degree in chemistry and physics, you could have literally had any spot in the country – you could be a tenured professor at this point, you could be the head of any department anywhere in the States, but you humbly came back to Houston, to your home state.” Jared laughs and shakes his head .

“I can’t tell if people despise you or adore you. I’m guessing a bit of both. Believe it or not, most people find in incredibly comforting that you’re completely emotionally stunted. Can’t have it all, can you?”

Jensen reached into his wallet and took out a twenty, laying it down on the table and standing up. Jared, startled, grabbed his hand.

“Whoa, whoa man. Hold up. I was just messing with you. We came here to talk about Amy, so lets talk.”

“I didn’t come here to be insulted,” Jensen huffed.

“I didn’t mean to insult you." Jared breathed, tightening his grip on Jensen's hand.

" ** _I_ ** don’t think you’re emotionally stunted. Why else would I try to talk to you? I applied for your position, Jensen, and Misha knew me, and he saw the application, and he wants me for the job. But, he told me, before I accept it, I have to talk to you. Its not a requirement – he left it up to choice, but you’re the most amazing doctor to grace the halls of Baylor. What you think about the work – what Misha’s optimism won’t let him tell me, what Jeff can’t seem to express, you will, I’m sure. That’s what I’m here for.”

Jensen didn’t move.

“Please,” Jared insisted, tugging on Jensen’s arm. Nobody around them was paying any attention – the lull of the night and the silent heat that surrounded them carried a tune of a western song that Jensen couldn’t discern at that moment. He sat back down.

“Tell me,” Jared implored. He looked straight into Jensen’s eyes, his hands still on him, and Jensen stiffened, not used to this physicality, not used to the eye contact, not used to sincerity.

Jared had light patches of stubble and, this close, there were circles under his eyes. Jensen noticed only now how disheveled Jared looked – how maybe, he’s here at a bar after his work shift because something is wrong. Because he couldn’t go home. Jensen looked down at the hand holding him and confirmed his theory, his evidence being the gold band around Jared’s finger.

“Are you fighting with your wife?”

Jared recoiled at once, taking his hands off Jensen, staring at the man’s face with a look of utter disbelief. He didn’t maintain the charade for long – he rubbed his eyes and put his hands behind his head, leaning back on his chair.

“That obvious, huh? Lets just say – she hasn’t been a huge proprietor of me taking your job. The extra hours I’ve been putting in to assist Misha, plus the fact that I’m not going to have a real income for at least three more years is definitely not winning me any favors.” Jared shrugged, seeming relatively calm about the situation.

“Honestly, its nothing big. But I can’t stand the idea of fighting with her, so I’ve been avoiding home for a little bit. Until things settle down. Until I make a decision. But, like I told you earlier, I’m not so good with making decisions. That’s where you come in. The illustrious Jensen Ackles – please, sir, grant me advice.” Jared said the last sentence with a hint of humor, never displaying any sense of inequality between the two of them.

Jared seemed neither intimidated nor impressed. He wasn’t cowering or swooning.

“Hows Amy?” Jensen asked.

Jared did not seem to mind the change of subject.

“I went to visit her during my lunch break today. She’s at The Menninger Clinic. They’re treating the alcoholism and depression simultaneously, although, like Danneel said, we suspect a history of amphetamine abuse, although she denies it. She seems…better. She’s eating more. She doesn’t look so pale. She had trouble getting around – major surgery and all that and some days are bad, and she can’t eat or move. I’m scared for her. I’m scared that she won’t be able to find work, that she’ll fall back into drinking, that her cancer will return, that I didn’t do enough to help her. But right now I visit her as often as possible. Remind her why she’s there. Try to keep her spirits up. She’s really a good girl, you know. A good person. Just…” Jared sighs, and gazes somewhere behind Jensen’s head.

“She’s just _lost_. Nobody ever promised that life was going to be easy, or perfect, or that we always make the right decisions, but that’s what people expect, right? That life goes according to checklist, and deviation is looked down upon. And she wants to die, but why? Because she thinks, maybe somewhere deep inside, that there is no redemption once you fall so far. But there’s always redemption.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t take the job.”

Jared moves his eyes quickly back to Jensen’s, holding eye contact. There was no pleasantness in his stare, no smile in his face. His body wasn’t tense, but did appear somewhat defensive.

“Why?” his words came out with no definite emotion, as if he was expecting Jensen’s response.

“Because of what you just told me. You realize that these patients’ lives don’t depend solely on you, right? You’ll get burned out. You’re too emotionally involved. If your heart bleeds and you are willing to neglect your wife and your personal life for a stranger because you’re their doctor, you’ll end up like me. Alone.”

Jensen faltered on the last words, finding himself speaking them before consciously deciding to say them, revealing his vulnerability in front of this complete stranger, a man trying to take his job, a man who neglects his wife and personal time to check on patients, to go to seminars, to let students shadow him. A man who feels like saving lives go beyond his surgical skill and delve into the emotional realm. 

For a moment, Jensen felt like he should be the one cowering.

 Or swooning.

* * *

When Jensen entered his apartment late that night, he found himself unburdened by the imminent end of his educational career and instead, thought about Jared.

 Jealousy stirred in his chest as he considered Jared’s accomplishments.

 This man was able to accomplish what Jensen could not. He was well educated, he was charming and kind to all those around him, and he was married.

 All his life, Jensen told himself that being cold and quiet and distant, not having friends or a family, made him a good doctor. There was a reason for his personality - one sacrifice for another.

So how did the enigma that Jared was come into existence? It wasn’t difficult to see Jared’s effect on people – it was well known, worn better than a particular haircut or indiscernible tattoo – Jared’s contagious smile, easy mannerisms.

The fact that even the most distrustful people seemed to warm up to him, crystalline sugar in warm coffee. Salt, Jensen mused, would be a more accurate descriptor of himself, but the metaphor works.

So when the two of them, without prior speaking or planning, ended up at Lucky Bar again the next week, Jensen didn't question it. Didn't question his body when it walked its way to the mostly-empty establishment and didn't question the fact that Jared was already sitting there, eyes trained on the door, an empty seat next to him.

Jensen stayed silent. Jared spoke.

It was always too hot in Houston, and late nights with cold beers and light music sent Jensen into a buzzed nirvana, a slow but comfortable melancholy. The second Tuesday the two met, Jared told him about his wife.

Jared twisted his gold wedding band around his finger, mouth upturned in a lazy smile.

"I met her in my 4th year of medical school. I was 26, she was 28. I had a lot of free time, interviewing for residencies, and such. I was interviewing in Idaho, and went out with some old college buddies for the night, and she was there..."

"Genevieve," Jared giggled into his beer, "Gen, for short."

Jensen snorted. "Is THAT why you call me Jen? Do I look like a pretty wife to you?"

Jared snickered and punched Jensen in the shoulder playfully. Jensen swayed and crinkled his nose. Three beers and suddenly his muscles weren't listening to his brain.

Well, in their defense, his brain wasn't saying much.

"It was long distance, mostly. I got my top choice of residency, here. Took her on a trip to New York and proposed to her - in front of Joan of Arc! She moved with me down to Houston and a little later, we found out she was pregnant!"

“This is my son, Thomas.” Jared showed Jensen a series of pictures on his iPhone.

The boy was beautiful, with almond shaped eyes just like Jared’s, wild hair and a wide, playful smile.

“He’s three years old now, which is great. I can play with him and wrestle and soon we’re going to be playing sports together! I’m going to teach him everything, you know. I’m excited for that. I wanted to be a dad my whole life. I’m a very lucky man.”

Jensen smiled at him and raised his beer to his mouth, taking a few sweet gulps. 

* * *

 

The next week he got the courage to come with Jared to see Amy. She had been in rehab for three weeks now – Jensen had heard Dr. Beaver and Dr. Sheppard discuss starting her treatment again soon, which only implied good news. When Jared knocked and entered her room, Jensen was simply taken aback when he saw Amy.

She had put on weight, her skin seemed to glow, and she looked absolutely beautiful. Her eyes shone and she smiled widely when she saw Jared, getting up from her bed and coming in for a full body hug. Jared enveloped the girl in his arms and kissed the top of her head.

Jensen watched.

He may have been the one to cut out the tumor, to take away her cancer, but Jared saved her life. In that moment, Jensen was grateful that he got to live in the same world as great men like Jared Padalecki.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 “You seem to be spending a lot of time with my brother, Ackles.”

Jensen shrugged and bit into his burger. Jared was right; the cafeteria burgers really aren’t too bad.

Jeff chuckled and leaned forward.

“You know, when I gave him your information last month, I honestly thought you’d hate him. But looks like you are quite good friends.”

Jensen swallowed his bite.

In reality, he had been seeing less of Jared lately. Jared stopped hanging around the hospital on his off days, and hasn’t been coming in to see Amy, now that she had left rehab and coming into the hospital three times a week for chemo and radiation.

Jensen found himself unexpectedly missing Jared’s constant presence but never contacted him, never asked the reason.

“Did you ever end up telling him that you don’t recommend the job for him?” Jeff asked expectantly.

Jensen took a deep breath and cocked his head.

“I did tell him that. But...I think he should take the job. You know what he did for Amy – and he wasn’t even her doctor...”

“But you realize that if something happens to her, if her tumor returns in the liver, that’s on you, right? Is that was on him, the situation would be different.”

Jensen chose not to reply to Jeff. It didn't matter what Jensen said. Jared still stubbornly worked close to Misha.

There was no doubt in Jensen that the younger man was going to take his job. In fact, Jensen felt proud of Jared's stubborn disposition.

Jensen wasn't worried about that. Instead, he wondered absently if the two would meet up this Tuesday, like the Tuesdays before, of if Jared was going to spend that time with his wife and son. He didn’t want to ask the question, didn’t want to show up and not have Jared be there either.

“Ackles.” Jeff repeated. He was visibly annoyed, his jaw clenched. The muscles in his neck stood out. Jensen noted how similar Jeff and Jared looked. Jeff had the same colored hair, the same angular face. He was also unfathomably huge, which would be funny if Jeff’s 6’7’ of bulk wasn’t tensing in Jensen’s direction.

“Don’t tell me you’re encouraging him. You know that its his obsession with getting your spot that he had that fallout with his wife, right? Its only going to make him miserable. Shouldn’t you care about that? You’re his friend, right?”

“I don’t really know if I’m his friend…” Jensen started.

“Well, he considers you his friend." Jeff snaps. "He never stops talking about you.”

Jensen swallows and ducks his head. He brushes his hands through his hair and cleared his throat, looking back at Jeff. Jeff was looking at him curiously, eyebrows knotted together, eyes pinched.

Jensen took a deep breath again and shook out his upper body. He made eye contact with Jeff once again, who softened his expression and shook his head.

“Just,” Jeff sighs, “He respects you, and if he’s not willing to listen to me, then can you at least try to do good by him? Try to learn a little empathy for the kid, alright?”

* * *

 

Jared had invited Jeff, Misha and Danneel to their next get together. Which would probably be okay if Jared told Jensen. Instead, Misha simply waltzed into Jensen’s radial prostectomy, uncouthly came up behind him in the middle of the freaking surgery, _damn it_! and scrawled his arms across his shoulders as if the two had just met at a bar rather than when Jensen was literally inside of someone else’s ass.

Jensen flashed immediately to Misha, eyes wide, and Misha just wrinkled his nose in the prostate’s direction and made a gagging noise. Jensen rolled his eyes.

“Hey man, I just stopped by to tell you that we’re meeting at Lucky Bar at 8 pm tonight.” Misha stated easily. Jensen began to protest, instinctually coming up with an excuse to avoid his coworkers. Without putting down his tools, Jensen turned away from his patient, Misha following suit.

Avoiding the judgmental looks of his surgical team, Jensen whispered to Misha,

“What do you mean, **we**?”

Misha laughed in a sort of guttural manner, making Jensen grimace.

“Don’t think you get to be exclusive with our young Pada-wan, Ackles. Danneel and I have decided, unanimously, that we want to meet our future boy in a more,” Misha darts his eyes around the operating room comically, “relaxed manner, and Jeff Padalecki seemed to love the idea! We understand that you’ve been buttering up our friend for the past few weeks, eh?" 

Misha leaned in closer, his lips practically brushing against Jensen’s ear. Jensen fought the instinct to pull back.

“I really want that kid on our side, Ackles. Really. And if he's not already put off working with me after spending time with you, well...” Misha raised his voice, seemingly addressing the whole room, “Anyway, we’ll all be meeting a little earlier tonight, see the 'working' dynamic we have going, eh?”

Misha smacked Jensen on the back, making Jensen jerk forward unexpectedly.

Jensen wanted to call Jared, complain, let him know he wasn't comfortable with the idea. Wanted to tell Misha that he was NOT buttering Jared up for the job - he was, supposedly, discouraging him.

And Jeff was going to kick Jensen's ass if Misha tells him any of that.

But, he couldn’t bring himself to call Jared. After all, who else would tell the group about their 'private' get-togethers?

Jensen intended to honor that, no matter how odd and uncomfortable it felt forthcoming.

* * *

 

A local blues band was playing at Lucky Bar that night.

The bar was stilled filled with many at this time, people packed around tiny tabled, swaying to the music with drinks in their hands.

Jensen's never seen the place so noisy. The sound streaming from the bar was both conversational and ambient, which turned into a sort of chattering lull that calmed Jensen’s gut.

 Jensen enthusiastically embraced Jeff when he saw him sitting in the corner of the bar with Misha and Daneel. Jeff paused, body limp with confusion. Jensen embraced Misha and kissed Daneel on the cheeck, quickly turning to order his beer. The three muttered behind him with confusion.

 Jensen just shrugged. The warm night, the music, the buzzing of the patrons, the beer flowing into his veins, they all made the evening hazy, dreamlike, and beautiful.

And Jensen was blissful.

And when Jensen bought beers for everybody, when he found himself chatting casually about sailing with Misha and Danneel, them crowded around him, bodies so close together that their heat radiated into Jensen’s bones, making the evening flow like honey, and when he found himself comfortable and relaxed in a bar on a Tuesday night, an hour after the agreed-upon time, laughing, Jared walked into the bar with Gen on his arm.

And, _oh,_ he was beautiful.

Jared was clean-shaven, wearing a light blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up with tight fitting black jeans. When he entered the bar, the whole building seemed to light up.

His arms were muscular, shoulders broad and waist thin, long legs in cowboy boots and Jensen wanted in part to laugh, to hug him, in part to hide in shame, because Jared and his chameleon eyes and wide smile were what he was waiting for all night, maybe all week. Maybe always. 

Jared caught his eye, came over immediately and embraced Jensen. Jensen attempted to relax himself, but knew his fingers were getting tangled like knots, knew he held on for a second too long, too overwhelmed by the evening and, honestly, by alcohol, to keep time quite right. Jensen recouped and turned his attention to Gen as Jared introduced them.

“Jensen, this is my beautiful wife, Genevieve. Gen, this is the man I can never live up to, Jensen Ackles.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jensen said quietly, holding out his hand for a shake.

She only smiled at him and hugged him. She was much smaller than him, both in stature and body, her back and waist feeling strangely fragile within his hands. Her long, dark hair tickled his nose and Jensen, for the first time that night, didn’t feel quite right, didn’t feel in place.

He felt himself tense before being able to queue his body to be polite, and maybe Gen sensed it, because she pulled away and brushed some hair behind her ear sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for the informality,” she said, as she moved away, “But with the way Jared talks about you, I feel like I know you already.”

“Uh,” Jensen starts, scratching the back of his head and looking to the floor. “Can I get your guys something to drink?”

“We’ll be okay!” grinned Jared, and the two turned towards the bar. While they looked away, Jensen quickly moved away to Misha’s, Jeff’s and Danneel’s immediate vicinity.

“Ah, there’s the woman that doesn’t want our boy to join our team!” Misha whispered indiscreetly to Danneel and Jensen, just out of Jeff’s earshot.

“He seems to really love her…” Danneel started, but Misha just shook his head and took a sip of his martini.

“Yeah, well, Jared Padalecki loves everyone. He barely knew her when he married her and now she's ordering him around. She's bringing him down, suppressing and controlling his passion and his love and enthusiasm." Misha dramatically hit his fist against the bar top. "The woman needs to be stopped!"

Danneel shook her head and rolled her eyes at Misha.

“You’re a real idiot, you know that? She’s his wife. They have a family. They need stability. If Jared keeps jumping from passion to passion, where does it leave anybody that cares about him?”

Jared loves everybody.

Jensen thinks back to Amy, a complete stranger whom Jared spent weeks visiting. Whose hand he held that first day they met in the operating room. He thought to how Jared knows everybody’s first name, how he seems to be friends with everybody.

Jensen thinks about the way Gen doesn’t take her hands off Jared, looking up at him, monopolizing his attention, rubbing her little hands along his long arms, playing with the fabric of his shirt. 

Brushing away his hair and fixing his collar and he simply does nothing, exuding tenderness, his hand always hovering on her lower back.

And Jensen just couldn’t.

Long before everybody leaves, before the band even stops playing, Jensen left the bar.

The melody of the night, the honey-sweet atmosphere, even Misha and Danneel and Jeff, who saw his change of persona immediately disappeared in Jensen's eyes.

He had _just_ been enjoying himself. Really enjoying himself.

But now the pit in his stomach was angry, dizzying, and all he could think of was how wonderful it would be to lay down.

He shuffled along the sidewalk, wanting to run but not permitting himself the exertion, not allowing himself to look drunken or disorderly or -

“Hey, wait up!” Jensen heard behind him. Lightly buzzed and just defiant enough to ignore Jared, Jensen continued.

“Jensen!” Jared repeated, louder, this time directly behind Jensen. He didn’t turn around nor did he acknowledge Jared, but continued to walk.

He felt himself jerk back as Jared’s large hand pulled his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. Jensen didn’t move, but Jared did – he walked around until he was facing Jensen. Jensen laughed internally – Jared looked so much like Jeff when annoyed. In a moment of delirium, Jensen congratulated himself for pissing off two Padaleckis in one day – now, if he could get their sister’s number somehow -

“What the hell are you doing? Why have you been ignoring me all night?” Jared’s heavy breathing puffed his chest out. Jared was tall enough and close enough that Jensen almost felt threatened. At least, that’s what he told himself when his pulse quickened and he felt blood rush to his face in embarrassment.

“The evening felt over to me.” Jensen mumbled.

“What?” Jared moved his head forward in an exaggerated gesture, making it appear that he truly didn’t hear Jensen, or at least couldn’t have heard what he thought he did.

“Look man, I had been there for over an hour before you got there, alright? I’m not going to sit around and watch you play happily-married-jackass all night. I have things to do.”

Jared looked exasperated. He opened his eyes wide and furrowed his brow, crossing his arms in front of him.

“I… you’re supposed to be my friend, Jensen. You can’t even meet my wife like an adult? You have to saunter off when all the attention isn’t on you, huh?” The volume of Jared’s voice was growing, each word said sharply, eyes daggers.

“Wait, so…” Jensen takes a few steps back, “You’re telling me, you think I’m that insecure? You think I need your help? You feel bad for me?” Jensen starts laughing sarcastically, feeling his anger rise.

“Poor socially stunted Jensen, huh? Can’t deal without Jared Padalecki, because Jared Padalecki’s attention is so important. What are you even doing, man? Your wife doesn’t want you to take this job, and you think going to a bar is going to get her on your side? You shouldn’t be dolling out advice on anything, much less relationships. I’m going home.”

 Jensen attempted to move past Jared, but all 6’4 of him made the 6’1 Jensen feel tiny and insignificant.

Jensen tried to walk around, first to the left and then to the right of Jared, but Jared blocked him.

Jared blocked him without saying a work, eyes narrow, breathing shallow. As if trying to control some kind of monster that dwells inside.

His jaw was clenched and a thick vein popped on the side of Jared’s neck. Jensen watched it, partly with fascination, partly because he couldn’t look Jared in the eye.

“You really think that? You think that’s why I brought Gen to the bar? Why Misha, and Danneel, are there? You think I’m trying to manipulate her? What gives you the right? What do you know about love? What do you know about caring for anybody other than yourself?” Jared’s voice was loud enough to border on shouting, and people walking along the street started staring. Jensen felt everybody’s eyes on him but was too angry to care.

“ **Fuck**. **You**.” Jensen said, accentuating each word with a shove to Jared’s chest.

Jared was rock-like – he didn’t move an inch, strong and confident and furious in his stance, and Jensen knew in his gut that there was no possibility that he would be able to best Jared physically. He could only rely on using his size, being smaller, being a smarter fighter. He clenched his fist.

“Whoa, what the hell is going on here?” The anger between Jared and Jensen dissipated slightly as they both turned their heads to see Jeff run up to the two of them, clearly confused. They weren’t very far from the bar at this point, a block at most, and patrons both entering and exiting looked frozen in time, staring at the two men. Among these same patrons was the tiny, dark-haired figure of Genevieve, her arms crossed.

Jared had noticed too, and immediately cleared Jensen’s path, walking off in a huff back to his wife. Jeff looked incredulously at Jensen.

“What the hell?” he repeated. Jensen grit his teeth and looked around. They had almost caused a scene so close to the medical school. His reputation could have been ruined, he could have hurt his surgery hand, he could have been arrested. He simply could not understand how it was possible that his emotions got so far away from him.

“I…I don’t know.” Jensen ran a hand through his short hair, feeling a bit of perspiration on his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly added, and started walking briskly back to his apartment.

Nobody stopped him this time.

* * *

 

 Jensen didn’t speak to Jared after that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to, or if Jared wanted to. He replayed the scene in his head many times, attempting to dissect why he said what he said, why he stormed off, but had no logical conclusion. 

Without their weekly meetups, Jensen went back to his old routine, but this time he found no comfort in it.

Everything grated on him. His angular furniture and his black bed covers and the way his hair stuck up on the back.

He avoided Jeff and walked home to have lunch, because he didn’t want to talk about the night, didn’t want to face thinking about what Jared said, couldn’t consider how absolutely devastating it was to hear that, for Jared, Jensen was like Amy. In need of help.

Maybe that’s why they had a special day at the bar. To celebrate Jared finally getting Jensen out of his shell. Jensen rubbed his eyes and thought, with horror, about how its very likely that everybody else was in on that joke. Even Misha and Danneel, thanking Jared quietly.

“Thank god you got him to be a little less boring,” Jensen imagined them saying.

He switched out of Misha’s surgery rotation.

He knew that by every definition his action was cowardly, but he was terrified of conflict – hadn’t faced anything of the sort in years. Didn't particularly want to now, that he was leaving the hospital.

A month and a half left of his fellowship, and nobody really questioned what he did.

The more Jensen spent time by himself, the more convinced he was that everybody was in on one big joke. That Jared was just placed there to make Jensen less uncomfortable for other people to be around.

There was no other answer.

Jensen sat on his couch answering emails. It had been two weeks since they last spoke, since the night in the bar.

Jensen’s phone vibrated and he looked at it immediately, confused as to who could be messaging him. The text was from a number he did not recognize.

_I’m sorry. –J_

Jensen felt his heart leap in his chest and looked away from the text, ignoring it.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on his door. Jensen knew it was probably Jared, and debated for a minute whether to leave the door locked or go and open it.

“You’re a stubborn ass, Jensen.” Jared said through the door, although there was no malice in his voice.

“I know.” Jensen replied.

There was a long pause.

“Are you going to let me in?”

“How do you know where I live? How did you get my number?”

Jensen heard Jared shuffling outside the door.

“Hospital records. I told them there was an emergency, and I had to contact you right away.”

“Is there an emergency?”

Another long pause.

“I, uh…” Jared started. He seemed uncomfortable.

“I didn’t mean what I said. I wanted…just, damn it Jensen, open the door.”

Jensen stood up from the couch and opened his door, but left the padlock in. He was face to face with Jared, his forehead glistening with sweat. He held up a bottle of tequila in front of Jensen’s face, winked, and nodded to the inside of the apartment.

Despite himself, Jensen smiled and unlatched the door. Jared came lumbering in, his presence large despite his apology. Jensen closed the door behind him and followed Jared tentatively to the kitchen. Jared was rummaging in his cupboards.

“What are you looking for?”

Jared kept opening drawers.

“Where are your shot glasses?"

“I don’t have any.”

Jared looked incredulously at Jensen.

“You don’t have shot glasses? What do you drink shots out of?”

“I…I don’t. I’m 36.”

Jared took out two coffee cups, pouring a small amount of tequila in each cup before taking the mugs to the coffee table and sitting down on the couch.

“Never too old to drink away your problems. Cheers.” Jared handed Jensen the mug, knocked them together, and downed the shot. Jensen watched him, fought the urge to throw it away or to throw Jared out, and tilted his head back to take in the shot. It tasted like acid going down his throat – its been years since Jensen even looked at hard liquor.

What was Jared doing to him? Something about his personality makes people reckless. Jensen curses Jared under his breath.

Jared got up, back to the kitchen island, and began to pour more.

“Look, I think we need to hash some stuff out, but I’m thinking to avoid what happened last time we tried to, uh, discuss problems. So – “ Jared handed the refilled mug with tequila to Jensen, “Lets make it a game. Every time you honestly tell me something you don’t want to, actually talk to me, because I am your friend, Jensen, I take a shot. And vice versa. Starting with the night at the bar. Starting with explaining why you left.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jensen voiced. But, the booze was leaving warm trails on his insides and, hell, when was the last time he could tell anyone anything? And, in reality, he had missed Jared, and did want to explain himself, wanted to talk about his temper tantrum.

“You first,” Jared prompted.

“You’re right about me. I am stubborn, and always alone. Nobody ever implied, though, that it was something permanent, something to be fixed. If I’m your personal project, your charity case, then that’s insulting to me.”

“Fair enough.” Jared took his second shot.

The game was on.

“Your turn.”

“What you said, is what I told Gen. It was the easiest explanation as to why I was spending so much time with you instead of coming home. I told her that you were emotionally stunted, that I thought I could help you. That it was important for my career. She was supportive - particularly because she knew Jeff was cajoling you into convincing me not to take the job. She insisted that our usual Tuesday night meeting have lots of people, because actually speaking to many people rather than just me, may help you with social problems.” Jared shrugged.

“She would be right, if my intention was to help you get over your social problems. But, I don’t think you have any social problems. In reality, I liked spending time with you. In reality, I would have rather it be just you and me.”

Jensen's mouth twitched, wanting to smile, but he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Hoping that Jared wouldn't notice, he took his shot.

It had been so long since he last did this, last drank heavy liquor, that his mind was already starting to feel fuzzy. His tongue was already starting to feel loose.

There were so many things he wanted to tell Jared.

Jared stood up, grabbed the bottle from the kitchen island, and brought it to the coffee table.

A voice somewhere in the back of his head told him that there is a pretty good chance that this will end in disaster.

He chose to ignore it.

“Alright, um…” he thought back to the night, about Misha’s words.

“Misha said something about you loving everybody. And I thought that explained a lot about how you treat people – you love them all. And, I uh…” Jensen faltered. “I wanted to be special. To you. I think it would be great to be special, to, uh. You.”

Jared’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he downed another shot. A smile curled on his pink lips. Jared’s cheeks were getting rosy too; eyes a little droopy, and he leaned back on Jensen’s couch. His body language softened, legs spread on the couch.

He covered his mouth with his hand and started giggling. “Oh, Jensen, you…” Jared leaned forward, laughing into his hand, hair flying in different directions.

“Man, I’ve looked up to you since I found out about you!” Jared exaggerated his hand motions, opening his palm and motioning to Jensen like he was displaying a work of art.

“I mean, look at you, man! You’re brilliant – the most skilled surgeon I’ve ever seen! When you were operating on Amy, I actually got goosebumps! And you’re endlessly funny and charming… Hah, I was hoping there was something wrong with you, that people were right and you really were emotionally stunted. You know what they call you? Supermodel Rainman.”

Jensen furrowed his brow and grimaced. That was just… just horrible.

Jared continued, apparently unaware of Jensen’s discomfort.

“But what if they knew that you were no Rainman? That you really were that clever, that you really were that beautiful, that you really were kind, and funny? Think of how unstoppable you would be. Man, I know, I uh…” Jared was smiling, leaning over, his hair covering his face, and Jensen watched him, entranced by the dancing of the shadows on Jared’s chest. “What I’m trying to say is, Jensen, you are special. More than you understand.”

There was something in those words that Jensen couldn’t quite reach, couldn’t quite discern. There had been many times when Jensen received praise, yet it never felt like this.

So what if Jared was right? Perhaps these factors were true – perhaps he was intelligent, and good looking, and even, god forbid, charismatic. Jensen couldn’t allow Jared to continue spewing such flattery without knowing the real reason he’s not special. Why, instead, he’s a freak. Jensen throws back his shot.

Consciously or maybe unconsciously, the next words spilled out of his mouth like a release of floodgates. Years upon years of fear was hidden there, and suddenly it was out, between two coffee mugs filled with tequila, on a couch with a man Jensen met less than two months ago.

Jensen started, as if in the middle of a thought.

"I think thats why."

"What do you mean?" Jared implored. He was sitting closer to Jensen now – when had he moved closer? – and body heat was radiating off him in waves.

"I've been thinking about what you said. About having to be the best at everything. About being alone. I think I know why."

"Why?" Jared's knee was touching Jensen's knee.

"I'm gay."

Jared paused and looked at Jensen with concern.

"What does that have to do with anything? Who cares that you're gay?”

Jensen doesn't comment on Jared's lack of surprise and solemnly continues.

"I was raised in a very religious household, Jared. I've known for so many years but I could never - I couldn't just TELL them. I couldn't imagine facing their disappointment. I was and still am a coward. So I worked. I did everything I could. I studied and worked and I didn't MAKE time to love somebody, to make people question why I was alone. Being accomplished, being successful, it was the perfect distraction from the," Jensen motioned to himself, " Horrible thing that I am."

Jared didn't say anything for a long time.

The lights in the apartment cast harsh shadows over Jensen's face. He looked into his drink as if the answer lay in the bottom.

Jensen clears his throat, and tentatively looked over to Jared.

"I don't have an excuse anymore, right? I'm about to finish this fellowship. I'm about to find a stable job. I guess its time to find me a nice girl, settle down, get married, pump out those kids. Be the man that I'm supposed to be."

Jared stayed silent. Slowly he turned to Jensen. His eyes were wide and disbelieving.

"How can you say that, man? How could you possibly say that you're going to go on and live your life for other people forever? Has any of this actually made you happy? You're in your 30's and you are still living life like a child, because you're afraid of your mother or father or brother? Because you're afraid what the world is going to think? The world is different than it was 20 years ago, Jensen. Things have changed." Jared placed a tentative hand on Jensen's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. Jensen's breath hitched and he looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

"This self-pity bullshit isn't you. You can't do this. You can't."

With those words, Jared got up from the couch. He grabbed his coat and keys from the table, looking back at Jensen, who wasn't looking back at him.

Jared cleared his throat.

"Look, man… I'll see you tomorrow. You have some stuff to think about, stuff that I can't help with. I have to go home. I have to see my wife. I have to see my kid."

Jared hesitated. He stood by the door, looking at Jensen expectantly.

Jensen's voice came chocked up, faint.

"Why can't I be like you? Why can't I have that? Why can't I want that?"

"I can't do this, man. I can't. I have to leave."

The door shuts and Jensen was alone.

* * *

Jared was wrong about the self-pity thing. Because that self-pity bullshit was DEFINITELY him.

 Jensen wasn’t too incompetent to understand his own motivations - he’s on a tirade of self-hate and poor choices but Jared just fucking left after he told him something that personal, and the night is still young, so yeah.

Fuck it.

Why live life for somebody else, right?

Maybe in that, Jared was right.

This young boy is making eyes at him, whispering nonsense into his ear, so close that it feels like fire.

The lights are dim and the music is pumping through the bar. The bartender knows Jensen by name – keeps calling him pretty, men keep buying him drinks. He downs them graciously, steadying himself on his bar stool, feeling empty-headed.

Feeling free.

And Jensen can’t stop thinking about Jared at home, and his wife, and him grinding into her and kissing her neck and Jensen wants to punch something, wants to vomit.

On second thought, for once in his life, Jensen decides to do something stupid.

He leans down and whispers,

"Do you want to come home with me?"

* * *

 

There is knocking at the door. 

Jensen opens his bleary eyes. The light streaming from the windows was bright, highlighting the dust floating in the air.

His stomach turned as his body remembered the events of the previous night before his mind did.

He wanted to vomit, both from the alcohol and from what he now knew was in the open. What he couldn’t hide from anymore.

His room smelled musty, like sweat, like…

The usual quiet of his apartment was disturbed by the sound of the shower running, steam wafting underneath Jensen’s bathroom door and into his bedroom.

 His heart dipped and panic rose in his throat, realizing the kid hadn't left yet, and he would have to face the awkwardness of this situation.

Being drunk, in the dark, and experiencing a life crisis gave drunk Jensen excuses that sober Jensen just couldn't muster. Plus, it had been Jensen’s first time with a man, and he might have been bad, or over eager, or…

The knocking on the door got more insistent and Jensen could faintly hear his name being called out by a muffled voice.

Jensen sat still in the bed, afraid to breathe. The knocking stopped.

A second later, the doorknob started rattling.

And then the door opened.

Oh _no_.

With sudden horrible clarity, the previous night came back.

Home in a taxi, fumbling with keys, the boy's mouth, hot and eager against his neck, biting into his shoulder, blowing him right in front of the door, pulling him into the bedroom, fucking hard and long and… 

Fuck, Jensen’s body temperature must have gone up several degrees just remembering it, but nowhere in this memory did he remember actually locking his front door.

Whoever the uninvited guest was seemed to stay still for a second. Jensen decided to be as proactive as possible, jump out of bed (and grab his baseball bat) and left his bedroom, sporting nothing but boxers.

"Jensen? What the fuck?"

It was Jared, standing in the middle of his living room. He was wearing scrubs and looked exhausted - his hair was limp and pushed back on his head, eyes dark, stature slightly slumped.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

"What the fuck are you doing, man? I looked EVERYWHERE for you. Look, I’m sorry, I was shit for leaving so suddenly last night, but I called an hour later and you didn’t answer your phone, so I stopped by and your door was locked and your car was gone and I had no idea where you were. I called Dr. Collins, and I had him cover your shift, I told him you had a family emergency… But you're here in your apartment, waking up past noon, with your door unlocked? Where the fuck where you? What the hell are you thinking…"

As if by some kind of cosmic timing, the boy exited the shower, dressed (thankfully) in tight jeans and a t-shirt.

Jensen raised his eyebrows and quietly kicked himself.

While the boy (whose name he couldn't remember, or maybe never knew) was handsome, dark skin glistening and taught with musculature, lips full and beautiful, he couldn't be any older than 25 and definitely shouldn't have been standing there at that exact moment.

"THIS?" Jared pointed to the surprised boy.

"THIS is what I called a family emergency? This is what I spent out all night trying to find you or locate your family or calling every hospital in town? You picked up some twink boy to fuck? Is that it?"

The boy, obviously startled, threw the towel on the kitchen table and quickly rounded towards Jensen, whispering loudly enough for Jared to hear,

"Hey, I had a really great time, but uh, you didn't tell me that your boyfriend was going to be here… Anyway, I left my number on your bedside table." The boy made direct eye contact with Jared, confidence never faltering. "Call me."

He quickly put on his shoes, picked his jacked off the floor, and left.

And then there was silence.

Jensen set down the baseball bat and crossed his arms, attempting to appear externally defensive although he was screaming on the inside.

"You're the one who told me to live life for me. You're the one who said I shouldn't be ashamed of being gay."

"That’s not what I meant!" Jared's hostility changed into something much closer to desperation.

"I didn't mean, screw whoever you see first. I meant… you can fall in love, you can have those relationships, you don't have to lie to yourself. Or to other people.”

Jensen breached the space between them. His shoulders tight and his jaw clenched, he took a few steps until his face was mere inches from Jared's, his eyes on burning.

"You broke me, Jared. You fix it."

There was palpable silence as Jared looked down at Jensen. His kaleidoscope eyes, green or gold, were unreadable, his posture at full attention but not intimidating. Jared leans forward and, from the corner of his eye, Jensen sees Jared's wrist clench.

He's going to punch me, Jensen thinks, and tenses further, too wound up to back down now.

 

But instead, Jared leans forward, and brushes his lips against Jensen's.


	4. Chapter 4

Too shocked to do anything, Jensen stared at Jared's nose, focusing on the cute mole on the right and noted his pores and the length of his eyelashes. 

One large hand cupped his face, and then the second, as Jared grew bolder, his lips puckering fuller, his tongue licking his own lips, creating friction between them. Jensen could feel Jared’s uneven breathing on his face.

After what seemed like a millennia, Jared tilted his face down, breathing out raggedly, touching his forehead to Jensen’s.

Jensen's heart was racing, his hands sweating. He couldn't find the words to say, or the thoughts to think, so he did what any red blooded straight man would do - he placed his palms on Jared's chest and pushed him away. 

"What the FUCK, Padalecki?" Jensen growled, not convinced of his own anger.

"There is nothing wrong with you. You're not broken, Jensen. You…" Jared doesn't make eye contact, staring at the floor. His face is flushed, his breathing uneven, his eyelashes fluttering.

"You're the smartest, most humble, most interesting person I've ever met. And you're beautiful. And you treat yourself like shit, and you don't think you're good enough, because you can be such a god **DAMN** idiot."

Jensen's voice softens as he moves forward.

"What, Jared. What?"

"Why the hell do you think I talk to you every day? You think because I want your job? You think because I'm desperate for friends? I have a wife and a son and…" Jared's voice hitches, almost like he's about to cry. He shrugs his shoulders.

"I talk to you more than my wife, my parents, my brother. I see you and I'm happy. I'm a grown man, Jensen, and… I'm just…"

Jared exhales loudly. He brushes his fingers through his hair. Without ever raising his face, he turns around and walks straight out the door.

* * *

 

Jensen dreams about that kiss. He thinks about it constantly. He thinks about Jared’s gruff hands handling his face with such gentleness, how soft his lips were, how nervous and excited he felt. How it almost felt like Jared, beautiful Jared, wonderful, smart, kindhearted Jared, wanted to kiss him.

Jensen paced his apartment, waiting.

He dreamt of Jared.

He touched himself tentatively in the shower. He came hard, thinking of Jared’s lips.

Two weeks passed before they spoke again.

 

* * *

 

Jared and Jensen worked a surgery together. With only a month left before Jensen finishes his fellowship, Misha had inquired about Jared coming in more often. Jared followed suit.

Even though Jensen switched out of Misha’s rotation, somehow they both ended up in the same room. Jensen couldn’t concentrate on the surgery.

He tried to be as far away from Jared in the changing room. His entire body was tense as he forced himself to look away as Jared undressed.

“Come with me,” Jared breathed into Jensen’s ear as they left the changing room. Jared left the hospital and went into the almost-empty parking lot. He opened the back seat of a four-door sedan and sat down.

Jensen followed suit.

How does one run away from the truth?

Allowing himself to jerk off thinking about Jared made it impossible to fool himself back into some sort of heterosexual guise.

He knew, without a doubt, that kissing Jared felt better than any sex he’s had before. Even the boy from the club felt more right, more secure, more erotic. He was too far in and there was no way to go back. And the only person who knew was sitting with him in the back seat of a sedan, sharing his air.

The man he inadvertently focused his crisis on, apparently.

A doctor in his late 30’s, lusting after a husband and a father. The butterflies in Jensen’s stomach were not quelled by the dark cloud sitting on the back of his mind.

Jared broke the silence first.

“What was it like?”

Jensen chocked on his spit, at once going on the defensive, although he was almost certain to what Jared was referring.

“What was WHAT like?”

“You know what. The boy. What was it like? What did he do?”

Jensen flushed.

“I, uh… I think that’s personal. I don’t ask you about you and your wife.”

Jared’s tone was harsh.

“You don’t NEED to ask me about me and my wife. You’ve slept with women.”

“Don’t pretend you are some kind of researcher here, man. Why would you want to know?”

Jared didn’t say anything for a while. But, after a few minutes, Jensen felt Jared’s hand nudge against him.

They interwove fingers and sat in the dark parking lot, looking ahead. Both hands were sweating. Jensen was too thrilled to be embarrassed, to overwhelmed with affection to remember Gen, or Thomas. His mind had, instead, gone mostly quiet.

The only thought that kept repeating itself in his mind rang on repeat.

_Please_ , it begged him. _Please, remember this._

* * *

 

Sitting in the bar, watching the game, conversation dominated by Danneel and Misha, Jensen leaned against the bar top, his left hand folded underneath his right arm, which nursed his beer. He listened to them wordlessly, encompassed in their excited nature. Danneel was wearing a low-cropped top and Jensen found himself staring at her, her hair, her long fingers, her straight white teeth.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jensen began to imagine a world with a baby that had her big lips and clear skin, and how much the Ackles’ would love her, and how she was already in with his team at the hospital. Hell, if he ended up staying here, maybe he should ask her out. It wasn’t just once that he had caught her eyeing him, trying to deduce him, trying to _seduce_ him, so why the hell not…

The bar lights were dimmed, the music and voices loud. Jared, in slacks and a v-neck shirt, easy and loungey, sprawled his extremities all over the place, sat on Jensen’s right, interjecting into Misha’s and Danneel’s conversation. They looked him over like a team, Misha’s eyes sparkling.

Since last time, Genevieve had not attended any of their get-togethers, but Jeff, Misha and Danneel continued to crowd the two of them. Jensen was partly relieved, unable to find words around Jared, his tongue tied.

It was so much more comforting to listen to others talk.

And Jared, with his mussed hair from spending all day in a surgical cap, and flushed cheeks from the beer he’s been drinking, frequented Jensen’s thoughts. Unfortunately, to Jensen it definitely did not appear that Jared was feeling his own awkwardness and fear – he was always all hands, direct eye contact, shameless flirtation, and not just with Jensen.

When Jensen felt something touch his splayed fingers, he looked down, only to see Jared’s hand tentatively touching his. Pinky to pinky. Jared maintained the easy contact most of the night, touching knees or resting his palm on Jensen’s back.

Jensen, with shivers up his spine and fluttering eyelashes, couldn’t really look at Jared, could initiate a word or a smile. He looked dumbly into his lap, trying to convince his nerve endings to feel more sensation where Jared’s skin was touching his own.

Jared never made a motion to correct his touches, and Jensen didn’t either.

* * *

 

When Jensen was in high school, there was this kid he knew – Jason. He was a friend, or something. He was in a band and smoked astounding amounts of weed, but was always kind to Jensen. He always made sure to show him around school on the first day, introduced him to all his friends, got him free tickets to his shows. He was raised on the Kurt Cobain era – his clothes ripped and loose and grungy, his curly hair long and tied back into a messy pony-tail, traces of eyeliner around his red-rimmed eyes.

It wasn’t until maybe two years into their friendship, and Jason had been drinking, and they were all together at a friend’s house, when Jason placed a tentative hand on Jensen’s thigh. Jensen noticed – of course he noticed – but tried to ignore it, pretend it never happened, even though his skin started to heat and he felt droplets of sweat form on his upper lip, though it wasn’t warm in the room at all.

It was Jason that first really started jamming with Jensen, teaching him how to press the cords right, how to carry his voice. And Jensen wanted to be around Jason, liked that people confused their names, liked the way his blood seemed to boil at every casual interaction.

See, with girls, it was simple enough, how it worked. You bought them flowers and told them they’re pretty, talked to their friends, slept with them.

But with Jason, Jensen didn’t know where to go. Didn’t know what relationships with men are supposed to be like, didn’t even know if Jason was gay, or if he was accidentally coming on to him.

It was the subject of many of his dreamless nights in high schools. Well, before he knew he had to stow the whole “gay” thing before it ruined his life.

Jensen was now a grown man. He had his own home and an important job and took care of his own decisions but he felt very similar to how he did when he was 17 – excited, confused, terrified. Maybe he should have said something to Jared. Maybe he should have confronted him, asked him about Genevieve, and what the hell that idiot thought he was doing.

Maybe. And if his Google searches on “how to be in a gay relationship” didn’t simply lead to gay porn (which he ended up perusing the rest of the day) turned up anything, maybe Jensen would have come up with a protest, with some kind of perusal, with something to move things forward. But nothing was available, not those kinds of easy answers that one finds online.

So, he did what he had never done before. He let it go.

* * *

 Three weeks until Jensen finishes his fellowship.

Jared can’t seem to keep quiet – ever, really. He’s always going on and on and on and on, sometimes ranting about subjects that Jensen doesn’t understand. The kid clearly has a good memory, because he can recite every type of cut made in surgery and every type of star ship seen in all three of the original Star Wars movies. 

Jensen, however, didn’t find himself in Jared’s shoes, particularly with memorization, or life. He used the “mind palace” technique, imagining a castle where each room, each chest or drawer or window, held particular sets of information. This is where he kept all his anatomical knowledge, knew which drugs to give pre-surgery and post-surgery, and in one room, a new room, the one he dedicated just for Jared, he started stowing away Jared’s life.

Jared had a cute mole of the right side of his face, parallel with his nose. He had dimples that made him look young him and furry eyebrows that kept his face expressive.

“I have two dogs,” Jared boasted, picking orange hairs off his sweater one evening, as the two of them sat nursing beers as some of the last patrons in Lucky Bar.

“Well, I **had** two dogs – Harley and Sadie, but Harley died, cancer, ironically enough, so my other dogs are Gen’s dogs –Cocker Spaniels. Thomas loves them both a ton, and they are both so gentle with him! I wonder what it is about large dogs that make them so good with babies because, really, man, those gigantic doofuses are as big as I am and here they are, sniffing around Tommy’s infant butt like its lilies and roses…”

Jensen gripped his beer a little tighter at the mention of “Gen,” although he had no resolve and no particular reason to be angry with her. Yet, when Jared brought her up, acid rose into his mouth and he found himself gritting his teeth.

If he had seen her, if he couldn’t keep a lid on his emotions, he would grab her by the face and show her that she was the real mistress, that Jared loved only him, that she had no place to interfere – but – this scenario, as exciting and testosterone filled as it plays in Jensen’s head, was impossible.

He didn’t know if Jared loved him, or if he loved his wife, or even if Jared was gay. Jared never chose to address it, and for all Jensen knew, he could have been high or drunk or having an early midlife crisis.

But Jensen had had his entire life planned out, down to the detail, down to his clothes and his psuedogirlfiends and how much he’s already saved up for retirement.

“Just let it happen,” he mumbled under his breath, constantly, overwhelmingly.

* * *

 

Two weeks until Jensen finishes his fellowship. He doesn’t care. He gazes at Jared like a lovesick schoolgirl. 

Nothing happens between them, nothing changes. Jared continued to be nothing more than aloof, playing by his fancy, and Jensen took what he could get. Even that, he considered, was much more than he ever thought was possible. Even if an inkling feeling of guilt, or betrayal, of, dare he say it, mistress-ness, pounding in the back of his head.

All he wanted was to be close.

Which is why when Misha called Jensen into his office during an off day, Jensen was thrilled.

“Go ahead, sit down Jensen.” Misha said, pointing to the chair opposite him in the office. Jensen sat down and folded his hands on his lap.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Collins?”

Misha leaned forward, looking directly into Jensen’s eyes.

“I have a proposition for you, Dr. Ackles.”

“I’m listening?”

“As you may know, the surgical oncology fellowship here is incredibly competitive. The college has decided to expand the program to take on 6 fellows, rather than the current 3. We’re doubling our numbers, which means we’re going to need new attendings. More than that,” Misha continued, “I am going to need a program co-director. Now, this position has been approved by the board, the paycheck is set, and resume’s are already landing in my inbox, but the person I really wanted to speak to is, well, you.”

 Jensen attempted to maintain a stoic expression, but mirth was already escalading in his chest.

 If you take the position, you can expect to be working very intimately with me, as well as having administrative and educational duties, while continuing to get the most interesting cases for surgical oncology. And, of course,” Misha smirked, “If you take the job, I think the perfect protégé for you would be young Dr. Padalecki. We can, of course, determine other accepted applicants together.”

“Wow, sir, that’s quite the honor,” Jensen stammered.

“Of course, you don’t have to make a decision for another week or so. I’ll give you time to sleep on it. In the meantime, I’ll be more than happy to write letters of reference to other positions, if you want to explore other options. But we would love to have you here as a full time staff member.”

Jensen thanked Misha and exited the office, elated.

He would be able to work one-on-one with Jared. For years.

That night, announcing his news to Jeff and Jared at Lucky’s Bar, Jared enveloped him in a congratulatory hug, whispering softly into his ear “take the job” before pulling away.

Jensen felt a shiver of excitement ascend his spine.

“Actually, now that you mention it, Jensen. As you know, Thanksgiving is in three weeks. Jared and I, we’ve been talking, and well – we’d like to invite you to have Thanksgiving dinner with our family in Austin this year. What do you say?” Jeff was smiling warmly at Jensen. Jensen looked at Jared, who was grinning ear to ear.

How was it possible that things were going so perfectly?

 

* * *

 

Jensen was human with Jared.

It was funny too, because family was always the quiet of Sunday dinner. The respectful, "Yes sir, thank you ma'am."

With Jared, family was intimate. 

So Jared was the first to find out that Jensen loved water. Jensen talked incessantly about owning a boat one day, so he could go fishing whenever he wanted. Jensen talked about his favorite superhero, Batman, talked about his family, talked about the future.

Jensen talked about his brother Josh, his wife Ally, their nephew Logan, and how he would write him messy scribbled letters that he wrote when he was 3, but now the boy is 8 and much less endearing.

He talked about getting laser eye surgery when he was 26, how he missed the feel of glasses on his nose at times, how he missed his dogs which he left to a friend in California after he moved back to Texas.

And he felt himself smiling more, becoming more animated. Maybe Jared was right all along, maybe people needed to be watered to grow, that if Jensen was a plant all he needed was somebody like Jared to nourish him.

Jared joked and Jensen found himself laughing openly, laughing with his whole body, laughing until it hurt.

And days were suddenly passing without Jensen noticing them – he felt, after all, secure within his position.

He had applied for other spots, of course, for practice, as he told himself, but as soon as Thanksgiving was over, as soon as it was his last week on the job, Jensen intended to walk into Misha’s office and take that job, become an attending to surgical oncologists, teach Jared, out of everybody in the world, he could teach Jared.

They would spend the next three years in each other’s pockets and beyond that, Jensen didn’t really need to think it through.

 It all became so simple. And not spending Thanksgiving with him family reassured him that he could be himself with no fears. He could be – with Jared.

* * *

There was something incredibly familiar about Thanksgiving with the Padaleckis.

Large table piled with food, Momma Padalecki running back and forth between the kitchen and the table, preparing enough food to feed a small army. There were mashed potatoes and green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, salads and baked goods and a beautiful turkey.

Despite the fact that Jensen wasn't a part of the family and was the only unmarried one from the bunch, he felt a settling peace in his body.

As if all the vibration and obsession with keeping moving, doing, working was temporarily quelled and left room to take it all in.

Genevieve, Thomas and Jared sat to his left and Jeff sat to his right.

The family chatted openly, catching up, while Jensen tuned out. Instead, he held the hands of a tiny Thomas Padalecki and raised him, watching the boy giggle. Jensen mussed the boy's long and curly hair, pinched his cheeks, tickled his sides.

The boy had dimples, ran around haphazardly, got into fights with half a dozen dogs the families congregated in the back yard. Basically, he was exactly like Jared.

Sherri Padalecki had a thick drawl and mannerisms that reminded Jensen of his primary school teachers, and Gerri Padalecki had belly laughs that could tear the whole house down.

He didn’t get stern looks from his father or mildly irritating cooing of his mother, who treated him like an ignorant child. Although this wasn’t his family, not really, there was no need to put on any sort of front. Here, he was comfortable.

The time to carve the turkey had come and Jared had gotten the honors this year. Sherri gushed as she stood up in a toast, addressing the entire family and Jensen.

“Jared, baby, we’re so proud of you.” Sherri said in her Southern twang. “You’ve got a beautiful family, hopefully with a few more on the way,” and Sherri pauses, winking in Gen’s direction, “And you’ve eared all of our respect, honey. Even Jensen,” she gestures to Jensen and looks around the rest of the table, “Jared’s future boss, is here celebrating with us today!”

Everybody around the table clapped and Jensen forced a smile. Internally, he faltered. His boss? Is that why he was invited to this dinner, to make a good impression? Is that what has been going on… going on between him and Jared?

Just Jared being the good guy, helping his future boss get more comfortable with coming out of the cavernous depths of his closet? Jensen tried to ignore the thoughts popping into his head, but it felt impossible.

Jared shot Jensen a sheepish look and ran a bashful hand along his jeans. He then lifted the electric knife, said something that Jensen didn’t really hear, and began his surgical dissection of the turkey.

Jensen watched Jared with joy, his own heart rising despite Sherri’s comment. Jared looked so happy, so at peace, and he deserved it more than anybody, to be constantly surrounded by people he loved.

By people that loved him.

Jensen’s mouth was fixed in a lazy smile, his eyes lidded and dreamy, when he unintentionally shifted his gaze to Genevieve. And saw his own expression reflected on her face.

His mind reeled to a stop. Jared’s kiss, hands, long touches, features of affection, which belonged to his wife, lay imprinted into his eyes.

Jensen had heard that crashing a car slowed down time, that when you are in that imminent moment of death, every precious second is ingrained into your memory. Jensen thought, knowing the full irony of the situation, that this was just like a car crash.

He felt himself veering into different directions before he found himself colliding with Jared. He knew he could never go back to the life he loved, the live he used to live. There was no coming back from this.

 

He was in love with Jared.

 

The realization released all want, desire, hope from his body. If he loved Jared, he only had one choice.

 When he retired for the night, light smile displayed for the family, he shut off the lights and dialed the number.

* * *

 

Jared knocked insistently on Jensen’s apartment door. Jensen has stayed the night with Jared's family Thanksgiving night and drive back to Houston before breakfast the next day, insisting on finishing up some paperwork.

Jared waved, along with the rest of his family at Jensen’s receding car. He hadn't spoken to Jensen all weekend, past the text that Jensen sent saying that he made it back to Houston safe. Jared chose to focus on spending time with his family and Thomas, who had become an energetic little destructive machine in the past few months. Playing airplane nonstop and teaching Thomas how to kick a soccer ball around ended up taking all weekend. He had taken a video of Thomas stumbling with his chubby little legs after the soccer ball half his size and found it so hilarious that he sent it to Jensen immediately. 

Jensen, though, never responded. And that Monday, Jensen wasn’t at the hospital. Nobody had seen him all day.

Jared avoided bringing up the issue with Misha – after all, maybe he wouldn’t accept Jensen for the job is he found out what kind of self-hate benders the man was capable of. If that is what it was. The more Jared spent time at the hospital, the more he focused on Jensen’s behavior at Thanksgiving. He hadn’t made a note of it at the time, but Jensen had been so reserved, so overtly polite, and his quick exit the next day wasn’t sitting right with Jared.

The fear expanded to the point where, breathlessly, he switched his last surgery with another resident and ran to Jensen’s place, still fully decked out in his scrubs.

Jared stood outside the door, feeling moronic and overbearing. But, he rang the doorbell anyways.

Then, he knocked. No answer.

He calls Jensen’s name, goes outside the building to see if he can see anything in Jensen’s windows, but there’s no response. Jensen’s car isn’t in the parking lot. 

Jared sprinted back up the stairs and started knocking again, becoming more and more forceful as panic rose up his throat.

“Excuse me! Sir!”

Jared snaps out of it and reels around to see a bewildered woman in a maroon suit holding a packet of leaflets peering at him expectantly.

“If you’re here for the open house, you’re a little early…” she trails off and then smiles insincerely.

“Although I understand why you would want to be the first to see the property and why you’re so excited! It’s the only unit open here and it opened up quite suddenly! I have already had several other people call me about seeing it!”

She circled around Jared and pulls out a pair of keys from her pocket, unlocking Jensen’s door. She walked in, just _walked in_ to Jensen’s home.

Jared followed closely behind.

_No_. Jared thought. _No. No. This is impossible._

The woman set down the fliers on Jensen’s kitchen island, except it wasn't not much of a kitchen island because there wasn't much of a kitchen. All of Jensen’s appliances are gone. All of Jensen’s furniture was gone. The apartment was spotless and completely empty.

Jared’s heart dropped.

_Jensen was gone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1


	5. Chapter 5

Jensen had never lived in a place where it snowed.

Not that the snow was the leading cause of his transfer, but, he figured, if he was going to start new, might as well try something different.

Denver, with it's snowy winters, warm summers, liberal ideas, and growing medical centers, seemed to be the right place and the job at Children's Hospital opened at the right time.

Jensen spent a cold December licking his wounds. He spent most of his time alone, choosing to avoid the holidays completely under the guise of his new job, of moving away. Slowly, he stopped responding to the phone calls of his family and friends. The calls were frequent and painful at first. His parents, while supportive and proud, scolded him for leaving their home state so abruptly. His sister and brother inquired about his health, about the nature of his move, but the two had their own lives and didn’t pester him. He was grateful for that.

Misha called frequently. Turning down Misha’s offer was difficult. He had spent three years working with the man, learning from him, so when he called his mentor Thanksgiving night, he couldn't hide the guilt from his voice.

But Misha was calm, understanding.   
"I understand the holidays can bring out issues with family, they have some emotional backlash," Misha started somberly.  
"I'm deeply sorry that you aren't staying with us. Its a huge loss, but I'll help you any way I can."

But he already had. Misha had writted recommendations for a few other locations, and Jensen had done the interviews, as second nature. When Children's Hospital of Denver called him, Jensen didn't think twice about it.

His real decision sat with Jeff Padalecki.   
After all, Jensen and Jeff solidified their friendship when Jeff was contemplating taking a fellowship in Colorado.

This was a homage. In its own way.

Jeff did not seem to consider himself any assistant in the plan, of course. Jeff didn’t seem to be much of anything, other than offput. He never even called.

In contrast, Jared called every day. Then, Jared called once a week. Sometimes, he left voices mails. Sometimes he left texts. Jensen never let himself listen to the voicemails, never let himself read the texts.

He didn’t want to lie to Jared, and how would Jared ever understand? That Jensen did it for him? To help him, to take away the only aspect of Jared’s life that may be wrong, or complicated, the thing that could ruin his perfect family. Jensen knew that Gen loved Jared, knew the reverse was true, and could never interfere with that.

Which would have been great to tell Jared, except Jensen knew that Jared wouldn't accept, wouldn't listen.

Radio silence was better.

Jensen changed his phone number by New Years. Waiting for Jared to call, praying that he doesn't, left Jensen aching in ways he didn't know he was capable of. He blocked Jared's number from his phone, changed his email, got rid of all his social media.

Jensen mourned his family, his life, his job, and Jared. He mourned himself. And, when the grief passed, with the flurry of a snowy February, Jensen buried his old life and, with spring, grew anew.

His angular furniture didn't fit his charming old suburban home, so he sold it. New Jensen didn't have smart furniture or expensive suits. New Jensen had a yard with green grass and carefully tended flower beds that he decided to have a hand at planting. New Jensen bought a futon from a garage sale and minimized his furniture. He painted some walls green. He began looking at blueprints to build a deck. There were big plans. A new life to build. A new person to get adjusted to, to grow into.

Being landlocked had its perks - Jensen went hiking occasionally, fishing in mountain streams and lakes.

He thought about Jared. 

* * *

Jensen sat in the corner of a large shared office space, clicking through his digital patient files.

The room was moderately small – him, one pediatric oncologist, and four nurses shared the workspace. He enjoyed the easy nature of spending so much of his time around other people, people whose optimism and easy smiles rubbed off on him.

The Oncology ward, floor 8, was pristinely white and smelled of antiseptic, and the doors were locked so nobody without visitor's passes could come inside. Despite the stern environment, each room had an xbox and Jensen himself carried chocolates and gummy bears in his lab coat.

For the _kids_ , of course.

_Jensen wasn't sure what to say when he received the call from Children's the week before Thanksgiving._

_"Dr. Ackles, we're pleased to inform you that we are offering you a position as a full time Surgical Oncologist in our Children's Hospital oncology unit."_

_Jensen had been sitting in his apartment, drinking coffee and checking emails. He leaned back on his couch, rubbing his chin._

_"I'm honored, really," he started, "But I don't have training in pediatrics."_

_"That is true..." answered the woman on the other end of the phone. She sounded older, calm. Confident._

_"However, I'm not passing up the chance to recruit the most talented sugical oncologist in the United States because he's seen less cancer in smaller bodies. We're willing to offer you six months of training and a personal surgical team, as well as a pediatric oncologist."_

_Jensen nodded._

_"That is a very good offer, Ms..."_

_"Dr. Samantha Ferris. You can call me Sam. The offer sits for two more weeks. Call me if you need anything."_

_Jensen rested his head against the back of the couch.He probably should have told her no, that he would be staying at Houston with Collins. With Jared._

Now, though? He's glad he didn't give her an answer.

For someone who wasn't a family man, taking care of these kids was the most amazing thing Jensen has ever done.

Even though he had been in the office since 8 am, he didn’t feel remotely exhausted. He snacked on the office chocolate with one hand as he browsed newly opened clinical trials, considering if any of his patients would make good candidates.

The phone rang on the other side of the office. It was only the two of them, their unit nurses doing the patient histories and vitals. It was just Jensen and Dr. Kim Rhodes in the office, waiting to talk to their next patients. The promised pediatric oncologist on Jensen's team.

Dr. Rhodes picked up the phone and Jensen listened halfheartedly.

“Children’s Hospital Oncology Department, Dr. Rhodes speaking. Mhhm… Yes. Yes, he’s currently in the office, but he’s about to see a patient. Can I… no? Yes, I think I can transfer you over to him,” Kim nodded over to Jensen, who had been gazing in her general direction with a hint of unease.

Something didn’t feel quite right.

Kim set down the phone and swilled her chair to face Jensen.

“You have a parent on the phone. He says he knows you and wants to talk to you, so…” Kim shrugged and stood up, putting on her white coat that hung on the back of her chair. “Line 3.”

Jensen wiped his hands against his jeans, swallowed hard against the rising panic in his heart, and picked up the phone.

“Jensen?” the voice almost whispered. There were hints of strain, of misery, and part of Jensen wanted to slam down the phone, to run, but instead he cleared his voice and said, “Jared?”

“I, uh,” and Jensen could hear the exhaustion, and his heart went out to his old friend.

“Jensen, its Thomas. He’s sick. ”

* * *

Jensen sighed loudly, letting his anxiety wash over him. He used his left hand to rub the bridge of his nose, resting his head against his elbow, attempting to quell the rising panic in his chest.

“Look, I… I’m at work right now. Can you give me your phone number? I’ll call you when I’m off.”

There was a long pause on the phone.   
“I, uh..” Jared mumbled, and dictated his phone number. Jensen wrote the number absently on a sticky note, as if he hadn’t had the number memorized from seeing it pop up on his phone daily, long after he deleted Jared from his contacts.

“I’ll call you in a bit,” Jensen said, attempting to keep any emotion from his voice. He hung up.

Jensen rubbed his eyes with both hands and leaned down, feeling the weight of Jared’s words wash over him. Jared didn’t necessarily say that his kid was sick with cancer, so to say, but if he was, most childhood cancers are leukemias, so he wouldn’t need to be involved. Jensen couldn’t put a name as to why, after all these months, Jared found him at work. Would it be for support, for the fear of a sick child? Would it be because Thomas is actually sick enough to warrant cancer treatment?

Even worse, Jensen's heart was racing because he'd just spoken to Jared. He had almost forgotten what his old friend sounds like.

He shouldn’t be thinking of himself at all; his colleague has a sick child, sick enough to warrant contact with someone in a different state.

He had allowed himself to grow some scruff during his time away, growing weary of keeping up perfectionist routines that kept his head above water in Houston – now, he found the hair rather annoying as he rubbed his chin repeatedly, focusing on the prickling against his fingertips. His own fear simmered in his chest, in the background of the rest of his work week. A part of him despised Jared, then – when stability had finally been a reachable goal, the dull noise that had been Jensen’s nostalgia for his old life had reached screeching sounds. It left havoc in it’s wake, and, Jensen knew, no matter how selfish it was, he wasn’t ready to uproot his life again.

But what choice did he have?

After coming home and opening a beer, sitting on his second-hand futon and staring at the blank walls of his new home, Jensen skirted his fingers over his cellphone, feeling the smooth surface.

There was a resounding feeling of irony dawning over him – last time he felt this nervous about calling somebody, he was a teenager, and he had to press real buttons on a house phone, one that had wires and everything.

When he finally dialed the number, it didn’t even ring once fully before Jared picked up. Jared didn’t say anything, just stayed silent on the phone. Minutes passed.

“I, uh,” Jared started. “I’m sorry for calling. I know that you don’t really want to talk to me and I get that, I do, but we were friends once, right?” Jensen flinches on the word ‘friends’ but says nothing.

“It’s a Wilm’s tumor, and its definitely cancerous. Stage 2, from what we understand. He needs to have one of his kidney’s removed.” Jared’s voice was raw with emotion and Jensen felt a lump catch in his throat. He had been such a selfish idiot.

“I’m so sorry…” Jensen starts.

“That’s not why I called,” Jared stated harshly. Quietly, he added, “Not for your pity, I mean. I want you to operate on him. I can’t trust anyone else to do it.”

Jensen shook his head and took a swig of his beer.

“There are plenty of capable pediatric surgical oncologists in Houston. I’m nowhere near experienced enough to put so much trust in to.” Jensen was praying that Jared would see reason.

He held his breath but still got a resounding, “No. I’m coming to Denver. I don’t want anybody else to touch him.”

“Jared…”

“He’s my _SON_ , Jensen.” A muffled sob came across the line and Jensen swallowed hard.  
“He’s my baby. Please. Please.”

Jensen stayed silent, his hands shaking. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried to steady his voice, tried to swallow the lump in his throat before he spoke once more.

“Okay. You’ll have to call the main office to book an appointment, but I’ll do it.”

* * *

Jensen shaved his face and ironed his button-down shirt, pacing his living an hour before leaving for work.

The patient files for Thomas Colton Padalecki were accessible on the online database the night before, and the boy was on his patient list for a surgical consultation for the afternoon.

The more Jensen pored over the child’s ultrasounds, the more he had to get up and walk, making cups and cups of coffee until he noticed it was 4 am – and, damnit! – he hadn’t slept, and couldn’t sleep, and the whole house felt too hot and then it was too damn cold.

What if I screw this up? What should I say? Should I transfer them to another doctor? If I hadn’t stopped speaking to everyone from Houston, at least I would know… Maybe I should call Misha? Jeff? Danneel? Maybe they know something? Should they trust me?

The thoughts whirlwinded in Jensen’s head and he wrung his hands together. He caught himself washing his hands for the umpteenth time that morning, re-brushing his teeth although the taste of coffee was fresh and repugnant with the mix of mint. Jensen stared at himself in the mirror, combing through his tussled hair.

I’m being moronic. This isn’t about me. This is about a little boy.

But it was Jared’s little boy.  
It was Jared’s little boy, the one with the blonde hair and the missing front teeth and chubby legs and a waddle that could contend with any penguin.

This was Jared’s little boy, who at three was riding Sadie around the house as Sadie looked at Jensen with her big, sad, brown eyes, begging for him to stop this crazy kid.

It was this baby with the wide slanted eyes and pixy nose that Jensen would have to cut open, in front of a group of strangers that don’t know him, don’t know Jared, don’t know that he always wanted to be a daddy, don’t know that Thomas is already wrestling and laughing and, what, if they make a mistake?

What if he makes a mistake?

Could he really face being responsible for hurting Thomas? Jensen shook his head. He looked over Thomas’s ultrasound again, noted his PET scan, opened his textbooks and pored over the information.

It was a simple operation. Hell, it looked like Thomas was isolated in the location of the tumor and he would be okay. Any surgical oncologist, any of them, could have done this surgery.

But it had to be him.

* * *

Jared Padalecki was, is, immeasurable.

In that Misha was right. The night at the bar, when Jensen first met Genevieve, when Misha huffed and exclaimed that Jared was passionate, and larger than life, and was in love with _everybody_! well. He was right. He was always right.

The curtains of the large glass doors were pulled back. As Jensen stood in front of Thomas’s room, casual as possible with his white coat and coffee cup in hand, he didn’t get the impression of 'passionate' or 'larger than life.'

The hunched, immobile man whose enormous hands tenderly brushed over the toddler’s, looked like he was decomposing. There was no brightness in the room, no laughter.

Jared Padalecki looked small.

Next to the window lay a curled up figure of dark brown hair, which Jensen could only guess to be Genevieve. She was sleeping on a bundle of coats, not stirring what-so-ever.

Jensen hesitated – should he knock and attempt to wake Genevieve up, should he quietly stalk in and speak to Jared (whose back was to him, so who knows if he wasn’t sleeping as well?) He decided on the first, perhaps more for his own safety rather than some guise of professionalism.

He knocked on the sliding door and opened it slowly, allowing ample time for Gen and Jared to get used to his presence in the room.

“Good morning,” he announced loudly, going straight for the sink to start washing his hands and putting on gloves.   
Jared twisted his body around to face Jensen.

Jared Padalecki looked like he should be the one in the hospital bed. His hair, limp and greasy, hung down around his head. He wore a white beanie to cover it, matching the white beanie that was on his son’s head. Dark circles were under his eyes, his skin pale and waxen. Jared also looked like he lost a ton of weight, like he had been sleeping in his clothes, like he would rather be anywhere but here.

In comparison, Thomas looked relatively healthy.

Sure, he was asleep, and the IV in his arm was a dead giveaway, and sure it definitely looked like that beanie was being used to cover his bald head, but his lips were pink and his cheeks were rounded and his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Jensen would never have guessed the kid was sick.

Genevieve stirred, turned around, and faced Jensen. She looked much better in comparison to Jared, though no amount of youth or makeup could hide her exhaustion. She pushed her body to stay in sitting position, but did not approach him, and made no effort to say anything.

Jensen feels his heart bit quicken and stops himself for a few seconds. He breathes, steadying his hands and demeanor.   
These are the parents of a young boy who has cancer.   
Its not the time to be indignant over the past.

Jensen pulled latex gloves over his hands and approached Thomas, tiny in his hospital bed. His eyes darted toward Jared, who was staring at him like a kicked dog.

As Jensen began his examination, running his hands over Thomas’s tiny fingers to access his circulation, the boy stirred awake.  
His large eyes fluttered, his long eyelashes, like Jared's eyelashes, brushing his own cheeks until a spark of recognition burst his eyes wide open.

The boy opened his mouth wide, grinned called out, somewhat raggedly, “Uncle Jensen!” except he slurred Jensen to sound like Jesse and Jensen just about lost it. He smiled politely at Thomas, biting his lip.

“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”

The boy lowers his chin, pulling his hat further over his head, suddently modest and innocent and vulnerable and Jensen’s heart softens.

“So, uh..” Jensen clears his throat and continues running his hands over Thomas’s arms, runny, over his neck, feeling for lymph nodes.  
“Can you sit up for me, buddy?” Jensen says, and Jared immediately comes to Thomas’s aid, pulling the boy up. Jensen pulls Thomas’s hospital gown up and started to palpate his kidneys, noting the mass on his right side. He felt it out, measured with his fingers.

The tumor didn’t seem too expansive from this perspective. Jensen breathed out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and set Thomas’s gown down, nodding in Jared’s direction to lay his son back down. Jared did as such, but didn’t return to his sitting position next to the bed. Instead, he stood with his arms across his chest. Jensen noted, with no sense of joy, that he was much less intimidating now than when he stood in front of him all those months ago outside of Lyucky Bar. Or in his living room the day Jared kissed him.

Genevieve watched Jared rather than Jensen. Silence stifled the room.

“Well, I can’t feel anything abnormal or different from the scans. Lymph nodes seem pretty clean. You’re in for surgery tomorrow, right? He’ll need a few days of recovery in the hospital after, but things are looking promising.”

Jensen met eyes with Jared and nodded at him curtly. Jared didn’t move.

“Uh… Alright. Well. Let me or anybody else on the staff know if we can get you guys coffee or something. I’ll see the three of you tomorrow.” Jensen turned around immediately, wringing his hands, grinding his teeth.

He didn’t intend to slam the door to his office when he walked in, but he did anyway. Dr. Rhodes put down her pen from writing something down and looked at him, concern on her face.

“Whats wrong, honey?”

Jensen huffed and shook his head. He felt himself shaking, but didn’t know how to identify it.

“A coworker of mine, back from Texas, his son is sick and he came here. And his son is only 3…”

“Oh, you’re talking about that real good looking couple, huh?”

Jensen sneered.

“Yeah, those are the ones.”

Kim tilted her head.

“Do you want me to go and talk to them? Or see if someone will take over the surgery? Look, I’m not gonna ask any questions honey, there must a reason you left your life in the past and that’s just fine by me. But, whoever this coworker is, he looks miserable. I’m sure whatever he did, he regrets it. If you ask me, I think you should tell her that you still love her.”

“Wh..what??” Jensen stammered, flinging his arms out. Kim only looked at him knowingly.   
“Honey, you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend. She’s a cute girl, that one, and he’s a cute boy, and if he stole her or if she cheated on you, maybe you should confront her. It will be better for you.”

Jensen sneered, returning to his section of the office. Is this really always what its going to be like? People forcing their ideas of heterosexuality on to me? I wonder what choice words she would have for me if I told her Jared was the one that hurt me.

* * *

When Jensen started scrubbing in the next day, he hadn’t seen Jared or Genevieve or Thomas. The protocol was to have their doctor take them to the surgery – Jensen was the muscle, not the organizer. Still, he didn’t know his team here as well as the one back in Houston.

Hell, if Danneel and Misha were here with him, Danneel would make sure that Thomas was on his stomach so Jensen wouldn’t have to see his face, and Misha would place an assured hand on his shoulder and crack some ridiculous joke, bringing Jensen back to the present, into focus. They were good like that.

But now, he had no such team. Everything felt grave and dangerous and terrifying. Jensen had done a few such surgeries in his relatively short time at Children’s. But this situation was different by leaps and bounds. And Tom, bless him, was larger than most children his age, so it wasn’t necessarily his size that was scary to Jensen.

There was an impeccable sense of déjà vu as Jensen’s anesthesiologist, Dr. Morgan, wheeled the cot containing Thomas into the room, shadowed closely by a large man, hovering over the little boy, wearing a surgical cap which barely contained his electric hair, and a mask that covered his wide mouth.

But Jensen knew it was him.

He approached Jeffrey Morgan as he was setting up his computers to monitor Thomas’s vitals.

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” Jensen started. Jeffrey focused his eyes on Jensen and gave him a calm smile.

He was a few years older than Jensen, graying and distinguished and by far one of the kindest people that Jensen had met since moving to Colorado. He internally congradulated himself on the sheer luck of getting the one anesthesiologist he knew well enough to ask for such an astounding request.

“But, the man that just came in with the patient. That’s the father of the boy, and he’s also a surgeon. We’re going to need to get him out of here, you know what kind of problems that can cause for us, both legal and otherwise.”

Jeffrey raised his eyebrows and gazed over to Jared’s form, hovering over the cot and not paying either one of them any attention.

“Tell you what,” Jeffrey whispered, leaning a little closer to Jensen in the process. “If you agree to tell me the real reason you’re having me kick the guy out, say, over a beer, I’ll do it.”

Jensen’s face went crimson immediately and he had to take a few deep breaths before answering the ridiculously good looking man raising his eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, it’s a deal.”

Jeffrey stood up from his station and sauntered over to Jared. Jeffrey was very tall, even slightly taller than Jensen, but he still came in a few inches shorter than Jared, who was now leering at the older man as he approached. Jensen almost wanted to close his eyes, horrified at how juvenile he’s being.

But it was for Thomas’s good, Jensen considered. If Jared is here, Jensen won’t be able to focus. He’ll get nervous. Its not professional, undoubtedly, but neither was calling up a, what, fling?, and coming into a state to –

“What?” Jared’s voice was laced with anger and misery and Jensen’s head shot up to look at him, surprised to note that Jared was looking right at him, accusatory, livid.

“You heard me, son. We don’t allow family members in the operating room.” Jeffrey put his arm around Jared’s shoulder and began to lead him out, but Jared stood his ground, incredulous.

“But.. Jensen. Jensen, tell him I’m a surgeon too. Jensen!” But Jensen only shook his head, hoping that Jared could read his eyes, hoping that I can’t do this with you in here was readable. Hoping that Jared would understand.

And maybe he did, because Jared stopped resisting, wiggled out from underneath Jeffrey’s arm, took one long bitter look at Jensen, and walked out of the operating room.

Jensen breathed an audible sigh of relief and smiled at Jeffrey.

“Thank you.” Jensen said.

“I feel like a real dick. You owe me.”

Jensen brushed his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply.

“Yeah man, I really do. But first, lets do the surgery.”

* * *

Jensen threw away his gloves and took off all of his surgical attire before making the track back to Thomas’s room, where Jared and Genevieve were sure to be waiting.

Through the glass doors he could see Jared and Genevieve sitting on the windowsill, Jared’s arm around her and her own head in her hands. He was rubbing small circles in her back and Jensen swallowed down the acid that was quickly rising in his throat.

Jensen knocked on the door and slid the glass open. Both Jared and Genevieve stood up immediately, eyes wide and hopeful.

Jensen smiles respectfully at the two of them.

“The surgery was successful. We didn’t find any masses outside the targeted zone. The kidney was removed and your son seems to be doing fine. We’re going to be keeping him in intensive care for the next few hours, until the anesthesia wears off, and maybe an extra day or so to keep an eye on his vitals. Then we’ll transfer him back here, and hopefully he’ll be back on his feet in no-time. You’ll need post-op chemotherapy and radiation, to make sure that we’ve got everything, but it looks like your son is going to make a full recovery. Congratulations.”

Genevieve squealed and bounced to Jensen before he could stop her, squeezing him tight in an embrace.

“Thank you thank you **THANK YOU** Jensen!” she practically screamed into his ear. Genevieve let go, and turned right back around to Jared, where she jumped him and he, laughing, but not openly, not happily, embraced her.

“Thank you.” Jared said, arms wrapped around his wife. Jared’s eyes told a different story, but Jensen wasn’t interested in knowing it. He did the best job he could for a family that trusted him, and that’s what mattered.

Whether it was Jared here or somebody completely random would have changed nothing.

Jared reached out his hand, to shake, obviously. Jensen returned the motion, mechanical in its meaning, and pumped the other man’s hand three time. Jared’s fingers lingered on Jensen’s palm for a split second too long to be accidental, but Jensen pulled his hand back immediately. He looked down to the floor, not wanting to see Jared’s reaction.

“As soon as Thomas wakes up, we’ll have one of the nurses come and get you. See the two of you around.” Jensen said, hopefully more robustly than how it sounded in his own ears.

He curtly walked out the door and back to his office. There, he could at least stew in shame in semi-private.

* * *

“So, that’s the whole story,” Jensen mused. Jeffrey nodded, a pleasant expression on his face and raised his glass of whiskey to Jensen’s beer bottle. There was only one bar close enough to the hospital where they could walk and feel relatively safe, but it was also surrounded by an apartment complex for rich students so Jensen himself felt ancient surrounded by kids in the 20’s. Meaning that Jeffrey must have felt cretaceous.

But, the man didn’t let on at all. He seemed to be unfocused but very calm, the noise around him never distracting from his (third?) glass of whiskey on the rocks. Jeffrey didn’t move his head but shifted his chair to face Jensen and pulled out his arm.

“I’ll toast to that.”  
Jensen snorts, feeling himself easing up for the first time today.

“I wouldn’t! I should be thanking him, right? Because for the first time in my adult life I can be an openly gay man, and live my life not under the eyes of my family and the church and I feel really happy, like, _really_ happy. But I’m angry at him.”

“You think too much, Ackles. What you should do, is think less. And drink more. And, let me buy you a cigar.”

“What? A cigar? Where are we going to smoke a cigar? There are smoking bans literally everywhere in this state.”

“I was thinking my place.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, shifting in his seat and looking directly at Jeffrey, trying to read him, but finding nothing but half-lidded flirtatious eyes on him.

Not that that was an… unpleasant sensation.

“Heh, I don’t put out on the first date, Morgan,” Jensen tried to joke, trying to take Morgan’s flirtation in stride.

Jeffrey learned back and raised his class, not bothering to hide a smirk.

“To the first date, then. Hopefully there will be at least two more.”

* * *

Thomas was getting better every day. After less than 24 hours, the boy woke up from his coma and immediately asked for cartoons and candy, only bothered by the restrictions of his IV and EKG monitors hooked up to his tiny chest.

Gen and Jared sat in the room with the boy constantly. At least, that’s what Jeffrey Morgan regaled to Jensen, acting coyly as his personal spy.

“That boy of yours had caught me lurking multiple times, you know,” Jeffrey laughed, sitting in the chair in Jensen’s shared office as some of his nursing staff milled around, glancing in their direction with a kind of excitement that Jensen didn’t really want to put a finger on. Dr. Rhodes herself kept her eyebrows raised and expression carefully stoic.

Sure, it was probably homophobic for people to assume that JUST because Jensen was spending time with, and drinking with, and speaking with, frequently, to the infamously openly bisexual Jeffrey Dean Morgan that Jensen himself wasn't straight...

But what better way to be the openly gay man that he dreamed of being in Colorado than not telling anybody directly and just letting them assume?

Besides, Jeffrey? He’s smart and witty and _hot as hell_ , gray hairs and black-rimmed glasses earning him a hipster-George Clooney persona, and Jensen was not impartial.

Plus, Jeffrey Dean had some more positive markers.  
For one, he wasn't married.   
For two, he doesn't have a kid who has (had?) cancer, damn it.

“Yeah yeah, Jared’s probably paranoid. He gets like that.”

Jeffrey swiveled casually in his chair, throwing a wink to two nurses who were whispering in hushed tone in their direction.

“I’m not gonna have to fight the kid, am I? Because I’ve got a solid 20 years on him which isn’t good unless the first fighter is younger than 15.”

Jensen rubbed his eyes, unable to keep the smile from his face. He yawned and wrung his hands, looking back to his computer screen.

Thomas was getting discharged tomorrow.

That means that Jared and Gen would be headed back to Houston, to continue their lives. And Jensen, the impeccable coward, won’t even be able to say goodbye to Thomas because his goddamn parents can’t even go to a hotel room to sleep and have to be there. all. the. time.

So what. So Jensen’s going to be a coward. That happens.

So what. So he couldn’t talk to Jared at all even though he’s been basically living in his backyard for several days. So what if Jensen's tongue dried up in his mouth whenever he even considered speaking to Jared?

So what if he still walked past that room 300 times a day. Or used exclusively the bathroom closest to that room. Or occasionally made coffee at the nurse’s station next to Thomas’s room rather than his own office.

So what if he wanted to accidentally on purpose bump into Jared, tell him everything that he feels for him, somehow entice Genevieve to love someone else so she leaves with Thomas, or just leaves Thomas with them and never comes back, and Jared stays with Jensen, with no guilt of his own because he’s finally free to understand how much he loves Jensen and they could start a family together. They could build that deck and Sadie could come with them and they could get another kid.

Or whatever.

Jensen let out a low groan, forgetting about Jeffrey’s careful observation as he let his internal monologue devastate him for a second.

Which is when he observed a mop of shaggy hair coming through the window of his office door and let his heart jump into his throat as he realized that none other than the target of his current crisis was knocking on his shared office, posture slung low.

Dr. Rhodes, closest to the door, swung around and opened the door, beaming up at Jared.

“Good morning, sir,” she chirped. “What can I do for you?”

Jared ran a hand through his limp hair (a nervous habit if Jensen ever noticed one. Not that he would notice something like that.)

“Can I talk to Dr. Ackles, for a minute?” Jared cast a glance in Jensen’s direction, jaw clenching immediately as he caught Jeffrey’s eye instead.

Jeffrey raised his chin slightly, patted Jensen on his thigh (Jensen felt himself flush immediately, because that idiot knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for Jeffrey’s possessive gestures to rile Jared up, or uncomfortable with the entire situation.)

Jensen pushed up from his chair and approached Jared. Raised eyebrows and smirks aside from his nursing team made the three step walk feel like a walk of shame, but Jensen was too concerned with the confrontation, too terrified to know what happens next, to be embarrassed. He closed the door behind him and walked a few steps from the window, so no busy bodies decide to listen in to what could potentially be… a conversation.

Jared shifted from foot to foot, avoiding eye contact.

“I wanted to thank you, for doing what you did. For taking care of Thomas. I know that this probably wasn’t easy for you, and I get that. The least I can do is treat you to dinner.”

Jensen blinked a few times before setting in to automatic self-defense mode.

“Yeah, it was really nothing. Thomas is a good kid and I’m always glad to help. But dinner is really not necessary. I’m just doing my job.”

“Jensen,” Jared voiced weakly. He stepped forward, breaching the space between them. Jensen’s eyes darted quickly to his office window, where too-inquiring eyes were “tactically” watching him. He took a step back, out of Jared’s airspace.

Jared’s tone took on a pleading, gentle intonation.

“I’m going home tomorrow. And I won’t bother you anymore. I promise. Just let me treat you to dinner. Okay? One last time.”

Jensen sighed. It was difficult to argue with Jared, and he had no technical moral apposition to doing this, other than it was going to hurt like hell and he was going to have to be the good, upstanding heterosexual relationship protector again by pretending to not be in love with this absolutely devastating idiotic idiot…

“Yeah, okay.” Jensen croaked out.

Jared smiled immediately.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 8 tonight?”  
“Can’t we just… meet somewhere? I don’t see the reason to pick me up.” Jensen bit back. He couldn’t bring himself to even consider giving Jared his address. New home and new life would be soiled by Jared’s presence.

Jared’s face dropped. “Okay, that’s fine. Anyplace you’d like in particular?”

“There’s a steakhouse in Denver called Denver Chophouse. I think that would be good. I could show you around the city if you’d like.” Jensen offered, hoping the outreach would take that broken look off his friend’s face.

Jared grinned, perking up immediately.  
“Oh, yeah, that sounds great! Maybe we can hit up a few bars on the way, huh?”  
Jensen smiled forcefully.

There was no way in hell he’s going to drink with Jared. Not again. 

* * *

So he lied.

If only he could bottle whatever infectious personality trait that Jared had and sell it, or spray it on himself, maybe he’d use those powers for good. All Jared did was weasel his way into the lives and hearts of all people who had ever met him.

Even when he was horrible or when his cheeks were sunken in because his son had cancer because idiot idiot Jared takes on other’s pain because he’s got more empathy than Mother Teresa and because when he drank, his hands and tongue got loose and Jensen was strung high and tight and waiting to jump at any moment but the wine.

And Jensen was beginning to regret his choice of restaurant, because the Denver Chophouse was filled with rounded booths and somehow Jared kept scooching closer.

Jared wore a white button up and jeans, hair pushed back from his eyes. He looked cleaned up, happier. Jared's cheeks were still hollow and his dimples less prominent, but the smile was still overwhelming.

Jensen could smell the man's cologne and it was just about an inch from being too much.

"What wine, " Jared started, making direct eye contact with the blushing young girl that was to be their server today, "Would you recommend to go with the -" Jared glanced at Jensen, "The porterhouse?"

The girl fumbled briefly, taking the wine list from Jared's hand and pointing to her selection of a fine cabernet savignon and a pinot that she liked personally. Jared brushed fingers with her as he handed her the menues and beamed at her.

"Porterhouse for me, baken potato, loaded with all the goodies please, and uh..." Jared glanced at Jensen and glanced back at the waitress. "The roasted mushrooms? That sounds pretty good, ay Jen?" Jensen cringed, and shot a tight smile back to the server, who quickly nodded.

"I'll have the same." Jensen said. The server nodded again and immediately curtailed out of there.

Even she could read the situation - and it wasn't a pleasant one.

"Thanks for taking me out, man.." Jensen said. He tried to scoot to his left, hoping the circular booth would let him get some room to breathe.

"Mmmm." Jared nodded his head slowly, then bowing to Jensen. "King Jensen needs to relax his royal hands and royal eyes. King Jensen will be pampered tonight like the real Queen Jensen he really is!"

Jensen snorted and punched Jared playfully, catching himself. He pulled his arm back. Jared's smile faltered.

When the wine arrived and Jared did the tasting, swirling his glass and putting the wine slowly to his lips, making both the server girl and Jensen inhale sharply, the glasses were poured. Jared leaned in, raising his glass, directly Jensen to do the same.

"To Jensen Ackles," Jared boasted. "My good friend and even better doctor!"

They both drank, Jensen drinking slowly.

"Well," added Jared, "Of course, my good friend who hasn't seen me or returned my calls or text messages in months. As far as good friends like that go."

Jensen bit his tongue. The silence sat between the two of them until their steak arrived.

But by then they were on their second bottle of wine, and Jared was drinking a lot, maybe too much. Reaching over and touching Jensen's shoulder, his hands, scooting closer, knees touching, legs touching...

Yeah. Fuck Jared's chemistry. Fuck Jared for drinking so much. Fuck Jared for being so sad, for insititing on this dinner. Fuck Jared and his selfish needs.

At least, thats what Jensen told himself, because he stopped recoiling. Stopped moving away. Started reaching over to grab the salt, brushing Jared's shoulder. Started speaking in hushed tones.

Fucking _KNOWING_ that this was going to be hurting him in the morning.

Jared payed for the bill and the two exited the restaurant, Jared somewhat unsteady on his feet and Jensen giddy, on fire, feeling the coolness of the night air sharpen his senses.

Jensen wasn't paying too much attention when he took them to the nearest bar, much to Jared's delight. Jared came up to the bar, and after a few dubious looks from bartenders, Jensen himself ordered them two beers.

The two stood side by side, the crowd not leaving much room for them to breathe. A few young girls, maybe in their early twenties, noted the two of them, pointed and giggled and stared. Jared played along, lifting his beer to them in a toast.

Jensen grit his teeth.

"Why do you always act like that?"

"Like what?"

"You're constantly flirting with other people. Doesn't you wife get a little jealous?"

Jared exhaled sharply, rounding his body so that it covered Jensen's view of the patrons, so that all Jensen could smell is Jared's colonge, watch the bead of sweat masking its way down his neck. Jensen swallowed.

"Why did you leave?" Jared spoke so clearly, so roughly, that Jensen could hardly believe the man had just finished off two bottles of wine all by himself.

Jensen's eyes darted all around him, accidentally catching the bartender's all-knowing smirk.

"They offered me a better job."

"No." Jared said, and placed one of his palms against the bar, trapping Jensen.

"Why did you really leave? You could have stayed in Houston. We could have been working together. You left your friends. Misha, and Jeff, and Thomas, and me. Without an explanation. Without returning my calls..." Jared's voice was becoming higher pitched, louder, and Jensen had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything.

"No one would tell me anything. Misha wouldn't tell me anything. Jeff wouldn't even talk to me about you. You disappeared and I... I didn't know what happened."

Jensen tried to move past Jared, budging Jared's shoulder with him own. Jensen wasn't sure if it was his own sobriety or the fact that he had a few pounds of Jared in muscle, but Jared moved out of the way easily.

“I was trying to save your marriage. Jackass.” Jensen spat.

Jared flinched. “I’m the jackass? Really? I can save my own. fucking. marriage. You’re not some kind of holy protecting martyr, alright?”

And Jensen and Jared were again face to face, furious at one another, and Jared’s expression softened almost as quickly as it hardened and he exhaled.

“I don’t understand why you get under my skin so much. Jeff ignoring me, Misha brushing me off, that didn't matter to me. But not knowing why you left...I didn't know how to live with that.”

"Its because you knew you did something wrong." Jensen muttered, taking a sip of his beer.

Jared was back on the defensive.   
"What? What was I doing wrong?"

Jensen chuckled.   
"Lets see. Maybe it was lying to me about applying to my spot. Or manipulating my poor, antisocial self to go out to dinner with you. To go to your Thanksgiving with you. Under the impression I was important. Or outing me and making me go through my big gay panic. "

"Or," Jensen leaned in to speak in Jared's ear, eyelashes brushing against Jared cheek.  
"Maybe it was kissing me. Maybe it was having an affair with me behind your wife's back and pretending nothing was happening. Maybe it was using me like a two dollar whore."

Jared leaned forward and grabbed the back of his neck. They were in the middle of a crowded bar but Jared didn’t seem to care and he tenderly kissed Jensen, like it was his first time kissing, chastely and beautifully and Jensen should eventually punch him in the face for being such a flip-flopping life-ruiner but he doesn’t actually care that much because the thrill of being outside, of kissing a man, much less a man that he adores, that wants to kiss him back, was sending all types of wild signals to his brain and Jensen, well, he’s just a man.

* * *

The taxi ride home was torture. 

Jensen and Jared sat silently, breathing hard, hands twitching, not making eye contact. 

Trying not to ruin it.

But as soon as they were through Jensen's front door, all bets were off. 

Jared gasped as teeth met his neck, Jensen pulling his hair, angry and horny and horrified at what he's doing, kissing and licking where salty skin meets mouth. He grabs at Jared's sides, at his ass, grinding into him like a teenager and Jared groans, whiny and needy and Jensen in on fire...

Jensen crowds Jared, directing him into his bedroom, pushes Jared onto the bed, on top of him, pulls his shirt down and kisses, licks along his stomach, ghosting over the hard outline of Jared's dick with his mouth.

Jared whines, and Jensen comes back face-to-face. "Can I...?" he whispers and Jared arches his back.

“If its not skin to skin, its fine, its fine…” Jared groaned, pushing Jensen against the wall of Jensen’s house. He was grinding against Jensen’s thigh, impatient and hot and clearly too far gone to think about what an idiot he was being, but also fuck him for making Jensen be the voice of reason again. There’s only so much one man can take. Its dark and they’re stumbling but luckily, Jensen had almost no furniture and beside the entire lack of ambient lighting, this might be super hot. But.

“These technicalities…Are bullshit… And you know it…” Jensen growled back between Jared’s desperate, sloppy kisses.

“Do you want me to beat you off with an oven mitt, because I’ll do it, Jay, I will.” Jensen trails off as Jared leaves his mouth to plant small pecks across his jawline, down to his neck, using one of his other clumsy hands to unbotton his shirt to no avail.

“That’s not really my type of dirty talk, Jen…”

Jared had this beautiful quality of confusing Jensen, and somewhere between wanting to fuck him until he couldn’t walk and punching him in the face, tenderness blossomed in Jensen’s heart. How does a grown-ass man keep making these mistakes.

Jensen grabbed Jared, whose t-shirt was slightly damp with his sweat and shoved him onto his futon, following right after, until he was on top of Jared, who he couldn’t really see, but he could feel him, feel his breath on his face, felt his thighs tremor, felt the bulge of his cock against him.

He leaned in, breathed on Jared’s ear, heard him tense and shiver and whimper and licked underneath his ear, nibbling the ear, groaning into his ear, just to hear his reaction.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jay…” Jensen mouthed, but Jared was grinding into him and making these delicious whimpers and Jensen grabbed fistfuls of his hair in one hand while working his hips into Jared’s lap, feeling friction, painful rubbing of cloth on cloth on skin and back again, but it’s the only thing he could think of, even though he **wanted** to bust open those too-tight pants of Jared’s and suck him down like he’s fucking God-given manna but Jared obviously having some kind of gay crisis and if that means he can’t touch then he can’t fucking touch, Jensen can respect that, but that isn’t helping him as the friction began to hurt, as he sweats and he’s basically near tears, needing to be touched.

And maybe its not his brightest idea but he’s hot and desperate and wants to take the pain off Jared’s expression, which is somewhere between ecstasy and misery, so Jensen upbuttons his own pans and pulls down the zipper and pulls them down, just a little, just so he can get his hands around his cock, and its uncomfortable and a tight fit but he leans down so Jared could feel his knuckles against the fabric, so he could experience Jensen jerking off, so its something and Jared arches his back as if it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt and Jensen is getting off on it, he’s actually enjoying it, never mind that this is the driest, least comfortable jerk-off he’s ever had, but the way Jared’s lips are glistening, and the way he closes his eyes and bites his lip and fucking pushes against him, shamelessly, eagerly, desperately, and it doesn’t take long for Jared to let go, to moan Jensen’s name into Jensen’s ear, his full name, to clasp his hands against Jensen’s hips, to ram him down against his body, and Jensen’s panting and fucking hating himself, and when Jared reaches underneath Jensen’s shirt and starts scratching his back, biting his neck –

* * *

 

“You have to promise me this is the last time,” Jensen whispered. Jared didn’t say anything, he only nodded.

“Seriously, Jay,” Jensen continued, his voice giving him away, breaking.

“You can’t run back to me anymore.”

The worst thing, the very worst thing, was that Jensen couldn’t blame Jared. Not really. And all the empathy in the world, and walking in Jared’s (too large) shoes gave Jensen an obvious answer. Jared has a wife, a career, has a son who had cancer, and no man, no good man, would be able to leave all that behind. Believing that Jared could, even for a minute, or a few years, be exclusively Jensen’s was never in the cards, never even an option.

So why was Jensen so devastated?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys... not to give anything away, but some of those warnings? The sad ones? They're in this chapter.

“I’m a fucking idiot.”   
"Not arguing with that one, kid." Jeffrey Dean said gruffly, a twinge of mirth on his face. Jensen exhaled and glanced up at the older gentleman.   
  
_Damn._  
  
Jeffrey Dean Morgan was _hot as hell_.   
  
Hot and smart, kind and never pushing boundaries and **CLEARLY** interested in him.

So yeah. Jensen was a fucking idiot.   
  
“I’m too old to go to gay bars,” Jensen mused,thinking out loud, taking a gulp of his beer.   
  
He desperately wanted to drown his sorrow in alcohol and sex, but being the responsible adult that he was, he would have to curtail it.   
  
“And, “ Jensen added, flailing his arms for emphasis, “I have no idea how to be gay. I mean how do you get signals? I’ve only been macked on by men maybe four,”  
  
Jeffrey interrupts and points the neck of his beer bottle at Jensen, “Five,”  
  
“Uh…” Jensen continues, suddenly very aware of his tone, “I guess, yeah, five. What are the signs? What should I want? Do I do some online dating? I don’t get it, man. I’ve never even lived as an outwardly gay man. Even the four,” Jensen looked at Jeffrey, “Five guys, I’ve always rejected them, more of less, under some sort of heterosexual guise. Do I go on a gay escapade now?”  
  
“Look, kid, after the divorce I’m pretty sure that I fucked my way through the Seattle metro area. Yeah, the boys there are good to look at and desperate to fuck you, but then they keep calling and showing up at your house and asking if you’ll pay for their tuition. You and me, Jensen, we’re too old to play those games. Unless you wanna be a sugar daddy to kids that aren’t even good lays, good call to stay away from the gay bars.”  
  
"That," Jensen declared, "Is probably the best advice I've gotten in a long time."   
  
The two were sitting on the couch of Jeffrey's living room. It was outfitted similarly to Jensen's place in Houston - angular, mood lighting. But with Jeffrey, it felt more like a James Bond movie scene rather than a tacky attempt to be classy.  
  
He even had one of those globes that opened up into a whiskey bar, which is hard not to be impressed by.  
  
The walls were covered with maps, some of them with pins in them. Art from varying cultures covered the walls.   
  
Jeffrey noticed Jensen noticing.   
  
"I traveled, for a bit," the older man started.  
"It was the second divorce that spurred it. Never know you're a man that hasn't seen the world until you're married twice and divorced twice all within four years. No kids to tie me down. So I did Doctors without Borders for a bit."  
  
"Sierra Leone, Syria, Sudan, Cambodia for a bit. I went where ever they sent me for years. It wasn't a bad gig." Jeffrey sipped on his whiskey.  
  
"Woke me up." he admitted.   
  
Jensen continued to examine the art on Jeffrey's walls.   
  
He had all the time in the world to learn about their meanings. Learn about Jeffrey's life.   
  
He lifted his beer in Jeffrey's direction, a habit he was quickly picking up from his new friend.   
  
"To waking up," Jensen affirmed.

* * *

  
While Jensen was wrung with anxiety about how to date a man, especially at his age, Jeffrey Dean Morgan had no such qualms.  
  
Instead, Jeffrey was bold. He didn't seem to give a damn whether being a middle aged doctor was an appropriate social scene for a bar, or paint-balling, or an opera house.  
  
He worked every single one of them and Jensen trailed along, his jaw hanging open.  
  
No wonder Dr. Morgan's been married twice.   
  
Jeffrey, ever the gentleman, never pushed Jensen into anything. They drank and watched movies and spent days at each other’s apartments on the weekends.   
  
When they had the chance, when their days off corresponded, Jeffrey would load up his car with tents, food, and Bisou, his Rottweiler mix, and the two of them would go camping.   
  
The first time they kissed, the two had been lying in a tent somewhere near Mt. Evans. Jeffrey was wearing a head flashlight, reading a paperback and Jensen layed on his back, watching the shadows on the tent with each turn of Jeffrey's page.   
  
Jensen turned around, facing Jeffrey. He almost snickered.   
  
"You look ridiculous," Jensen joked, pointing to the headlamp.   
  
"Ah well, you can't account for taste in the pretty ones," Jeffrey replied with a rolling laugh. Jensen's cheeks burned slightly.   
  
It was nice. Being called pretty.  
  
Jeffrey shifted so that his body was next to Jensen's, burly arm over Jensen's chest.   
  
After a moment passes, Jensen clears his throat.   
  
"I, uh... I like you." Jensen stammered. He heard a chuckle from his side.  
  
"I expected a note, Ackles. With those check boxes - Do you like me? Yes or no?"  
  
Jensen didn't move, unable to look Jeffrey in the eyes, though he could see the older man gazing at him .   
  
"So... do you?"  
  
Soft lips and prickly beard tickled Jensen's face, and he quickly joined the kiss before his heart stopped, before he had a chance to forget how to return it.   
  
Jensen breathed in mountain air, stretched his joints. Jeffrey squeezed Jensen's shoulder, and it was all Jensen could do not to roll over and get tangled up in that unbelievable man. 

* * *

  
Jensen usually ignores unknown numbers, but the (713) area code screamed Houston. And Jensen figured, after all these months of silence, nobody would be calling him from home if it wasn't important.  
  
So he picked up the phone, eyeing Jeffrey who was in his reading glasses and typing away on the laptop, sitting next to him on the futon.   
  
“Hello?” Jensen answered.  
  
“Jensen? Jensen Ackles?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Jensen couldn’t quite place it.   
  
“Yeah, speaking. Who is this?”  
  
“Chad, er… Nurse Murray. Chad Murray. Michael. Chad Michael Murray. I go by Chad. Mostly. Or Nurse Murray. I mean... fuck. I worked with you and Misha on some cases.”  
  
Jensen recalled the rough-and-tumble blond guy who never listened to him and always had his hair slicked back.   
  
Ah. That Nurse Murray.   
  
“Yeah, I remember you. Whats going on?”  
  
Chad stayed quiet for a minute, as if attempting to decide where to start, or what to say. Jensen glanced over at Jeffrey, who glanced over at him, mouthing 'What' with a twinge of smile on his face.   
  
“Its about Jared.” the voice over the speaker said.   
  
Jensen's eyes darted away from Jeffrey immediately and he grasped the phone tighter. He turned his body just enough away from Jeffrey so that he wouldn't notice his change of demeanor.   
  
His entire body was immediately on alert, goosebumps prickling his skin. At once he was trying to analyze Chad’s tone, see what the news was, see what happened.  
  
“Look, man,” Chad continued, “I don't really know you. Don't know your relationship with Jare. Don't really care. All I know is, he might show up at your place sometime soon. Do me a favor, don’t slam the door in his face.”  
  
Jensen scowled.  
“Why wouldn’t I slam the door in his face?”  
  
Chad sighed audibly on the other end.  
  
“Just… its not my place to tell you, but you need to trust me. Even if he's angry. I’ve never asked you for anything, yeah? You didn’t even know my name and we worked together for years. Do this one thing for me and I’ll cross you off my ‘complete douchedick’ list.”  
  
Chad's tone was eerily serious.   
  
“Uh, yeah. I’ll do that.” Jensen replied.  
“Okay,” Chad exhaled. “Okay, man. Don’t let me down. More importantly, don’t let Jared down.”  
“Yeah. Okay. Bye.”   
  
Jensen hung up and turned back to Jeffrey, whose attention was now more directed at Jensen than at his laptop.   
His reading glasses hung somewhat precariously off his nose and Jensen felt his heart warm.   
  
Jeffrey was always so cool and relaxed and confident. In any situation. So Jensen had nothing to worry about.   
Jeffrey leaned across the futon to lay a gentle kiss on Jensen's lips, and Jensen immediately felt his body relaxing.   
  
"Anything important?" Jeffrey asked, pushing his glasses to the tip of his nose and redirecting his attention to his lapton.  
  
"No..." Jensen lied.   
"Nothing to worry about." 

* * *

  
When Jeffrey knocks on his door a few days later, Jensen opens the door tentatively. Jeffrey is holding a bottle of wine, his eyebrows arched.   
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Jensen's body language was completely off. His shoulders were tense, his eyes red rimmed and panicked.  
  
Jeffrey Morgan, seeing Jensen’s face, lowered his eyebrows and took a step back.  
  
“Whats going on? Are you alright?”  
  
Jensen’s jaw was tight, face creased in concern. Jensen darted his eyes to inside, to the futon in his living room, on  which Jeffrey could see the huddled body of a tall man with long brown hair and –   
  
Oh.   
  
He directed his gaze back to Jensen, cocking his head. Jensen and his stormy green eyes were widened. Sad. The old Jeffrey would get angry, walk into the door, cause a scene. But Jensen, Jensen with golden stubble and troubled eyes was basically screaming at him that he was so so so sorry, that he would explain...  
  
Jared didn’t even look up at the door, sat catatonically on the couch with his hands covering his face. Jeffrey shrugged and walked away. 

* * *

  
If they teach you anything in medical school, they teach you that doctors make the worst patients.  
  
Even worse than all the people sitting on Web M.D., imputing fabricated symptoms.   
  
If Jared was a normal person, putting in normal people things, fever, nausea, loss of appetite, Web M.D. would have definitely put cancer on the table. Web M.D. was good like that - not going with experience or irony.   
  
Jared SHOULD have known. Should have noticed his son not eating, noticed that he wasn't changing diapers as often, noticed that his son was fussy and hot constantly.   
  
It wasn't until Genevive, wordless with a panicked look in her eyes, brought Jared a diaper with blood in it and Jared scooped his son up in his arms and practically sprinted to the hospital.   
  
"Jared, its probably something else." Jeff began, but Jared only nodded. He paced in front of his brother, biting his nails, one arm crossed in front of his chest.   
  
"Are they sure?" Jeff asked, looking at the pictures of scans in front of him. Jeff's office was spacious, great place to pace nervously, thats for sure. That is, if there weren't patients waiting outside.  
  
"They're sure. They're staging it. When the biopsy comes back we'll know for sure but they seem so SURE. What else could it be? They're sure. Jeff..."  
  
"Okay, okay. Jared. Sit down, please. What did Misha say?"  
  
"Its common. If we found it early, we have a really good chance for a complete cure. But Jeff," Jared stares at his older brother, pausing, and then pacing again.  
  
"What did Collins recommend?"  
  
"I need to call somebody. Who is a famous specialist on Wilm's? I need to put a team together. A radiologist and oncologist and maybe a surgeon, maybe - " Jared halted. Bewildered eyes focused in on his brother.   
  
"Isn't Jensen working as a surgeon at Children's Hospital?" Jared started. Jeff shook his head immediately.   
  
"Jared, there are plenty of pediatric surgeons here." Jeff spoke curtly, as if signifying the conversation was done. But Jared wouldn't let up.  
  
"If its still early enough, we'll go, we'll go to Denver and we'll get it cut out and then Thomas can start chemo here, and it will be good, right? If Jensen gets the whole tumor, and I know damn well he will..."  
  
"Jared..." Jeff said. "Please. There are many much more experienced pediatric surgeons HERE. You're gonna take your sick child to another state?"  
  
"Shouldn't I find the best care for my son?" Jared asked furiously.   
  
"Is the best care REALLY why you want to go to Denver?"  
  
Jared grimaced, his upper lip arching. Jeff just sat back. There was no point to arguing with his brother.   
  
Jeff glanced at his cellphone and briefly contemplated calling Jensen. Telling him what his brother was planning, what he was doing. Instead, he pressed the button on his intercom.   
  
"Can you please send the next patient in?" 

* * *

  
The first thing that Jeff noticed when Jared got back from Denver, a day later than his wife and son, was that he looked disheveled, distracted.   
  
He shrunk away when Genevieve tried to speak to him. So Jeff wasn't surprised when Jared showed up at his office door alone three months later.  
  
"We need to look at Thomas's scans." Jared stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Or," Jeff countered, "We could look at Thomas's scans in **his** doctor's office."  
  
Jared shrugged. Jeff sighed.

Well, if being an orthopedic surgeon was good for anything, it was at least having giant screens in his office where he was free to discern scans as he pleased.   
  
With trepidation, Jeff opened Thomas's scans, which had just come in that day. This was such a breach of hospital protocol, of the patient's security.   
  
Jared has his eyes closed, breathing heavily.  
"Tell me," Jared whispered.  
  
Jeff perused the PET scan, examining it carefully. Reading the radiologist's comments.   
  
"He's clean, Jay. He's okay."  
  
Jared basically collapsed on top of his brother, breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. Jeff rubbed his little brother's back.   
  
He couldn't imagine what he was going through. 

* * *

  
Even since he had gotten back from Denver, Genevieve has been weird to Jared. Their home was tense, quiet. She often sat with Thomas in another room, watching him play. When Jared walked by, when he spoke to her, she cast his sharp glances and closed the door in his face.  
  
She stopped making dinner for the three of them, just herself and Thomas.   
  
When they took Thomas to his chemo appointment, she stayed silent, sitting in the backseat holding Thomas's tiny hands as he cooed and strung nonsensical happy sentences together.   
  
It was when Jared was checking through his bills a week or two later did he even notice that Thomas had a doctor's appointment the week before. And he wasn't there for it.   
  
He probably should have handled it better. He should have. But every time he tried to say something, tried to find the words, his mouth dried up in his throat. Who was there to talk to about this?   
  
He probably should have. But between finishing his surgical residency, between organizing board certification and making his internship with Misha official, Jared had so little time.  
  
At least, that's what he told himself. At least, that's why he let life fly ahead of him and why he started forgetting.   
  
When Jared came in to Jeff's office another three months later, his brother wasn't so forgiving.   
  
"Where. Is. Gen?" Jeff bit out.   
  
"She's in the hospital." Jared stated blankly.  
  
"Why aren't you with her?"   
  
"She's not speaking to me. She's not telling me things. What if there's something wrong, and she's not telling me?"   
  
The first scan was perfect. Jared remembered it, saw it when he closed his eyes. A lullaby, reassuring him that his greatest fear had passed.   
  
Jeff only shook his head and clicked a few times on his computer. Jared closed his eyes again, waiting for his brother to give the A-okay, waiting, but not hearing anything.  
  
"Jeff?" Jared croaked.   
  
"I... I don't know how this happened." Jeff whispered.   
  
Jared opened his eyes wide and only needed to see the bright red covering the scan to bolt out of the room and run, run as fast as he could to the waiting room that Genevieve and Thomas were sitting in.   
  
As soon as he burst in, panicked and sweating and out of breath, tears brimming his eyes, Genevieve got up from her seat and ran to him. He hugged her close and she starting crying, crying hard, her body collapsing onto his and Jared just kissed her head, his eyes trained on tiny Thomas in front of him.   
  
Thomas, wiggling his chubby legs off the bench, stared at something on the floor.   
  
"Mama! Papa! Look!" Thomas exclaimed, pointing to the wall.   
  
Growing through the wall and the concrete was a tiny green plant.

* * *

  
Dr. Samantha Smith turned her monitor towards Jared, Gen and Jeff, who rushed after Jared the second he saw his little brother's reaction.    
  
"We're seeing metastases more on the left side, where his tumor used to be. With the irregular morphology of his tumor, its something we should have suspected..."   
  
Dr. Smith paused, "And, considering how fast the tumors started growing again after ending his chemo, I suspect mutations that lead to drug resistance."   
  
She pointed to the various areas. "Left femur, ribcage, we're seeing some in his humerus. And..." she sighed and took off her glasses.   
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Padalecki, this could be nothing, but..." she zoomed in on a tiny, irregularly shaped spot on Thomas's brain.  
  
"It looks like there may have been brain metastases as well."  
  
Jared was in tears. Genevieve sat silently next to him, clutching at his hand as if it was the only thing keeping her from going off the ledge. Jared kept clenching his fists and un-clenching them, gritting his teeth as tears dripped down to his jeans.   
  
"He didn't cut it out. He didn't. He didn't." Jared kept repeating. Jeff turned towards his younger brother, his hand darting out to touch him, but Jared was vibrating, shaking so hard... Jeff pulled his hand back.   
  
Outside the office, Megan Padalecki bounced Thomas on her knee, his grinning and laughing loud enough to penetrate into the room.   
  
Genevieve started, controlling her voice.  
  
"What can we do?"   
  
The Dr. Smith shook her head.   
  
"We can start a new dose of chemo, radiation to the brain. But..."  
Dr. Smith leaned across the table, hands touching both Jared and Gen. Gen stared into Dr. Smith's eyes while Jared stared at his own lap.   
  
"With this kind of metastasis, your son has Stage 4 cancer.   
The best we can really do is make him more comfortable."  
  
"How long?" Jared whispered, his voice barely audible.   
  
Dr. Smith sighed, pain in her voice.  
"We can't give any promises. Six months, at best."

* * *

  
It was almost momentarily that Thomas stopped bouncing, laughing, that the hair he was growing started falling out again, that his cheeks stopped being red, pinchable.  
  
He stopped moving around as much. They put casts on this arms and legs, to ease the pain, to stop the growth from rubbing against one another.   
  
They gave him IV morphine. And that's how he lay, dazed and forgetful, tiny body covered in tiny casts, growths poking through the skin, eyes glazed.   
  
Weak.  
  
Jared couldn't stand still, couldn't sit in Thomas's room, couldn't think.   
  
Could barely breathe. In a whirlwind people started crowding him.  
  
Sherri and Gerri drove up from San Antonio. Megan took up permanent residence in their guest room. Genevieve's side of the family then and again.  
  
Jared paid no mind. He could hear them sobbing in the living room at night as he sat over his son's bed. His son, whose skin was now the sickly gray of the moon.   
  
His son.   
  
When they slept, which wasn't often, Genevieve lay stiff on her side of the bed, her body shaking. Jared reached out, put his hands on her hands, but couldn't comfort her. Didn't know how. Didn't know how to fix her, himself. Anybody.

* * *

  
"It was him. Ackles. He didn't cut out the whole tumor." Jared stated, voice monotone, eyes fixed on the carpet.   
  
Misha and Jeff tried to entice Jared to leave his home, to come to a restaurant. The two older men exchanged worried glances as Jared's scrawny hands brushed through his greasy hair. His clothes were hanging off his body, mismatched and disheveled.   
  
"You know thats now true." Misha said slowly, barely a whisper, enough to make Jared look up at him.   
  
"It was him." Jared insisted. "It had to be. There was no other way this could have happened." Jared raised his voice, his eyes glazing over.  
  
"What did you tell me, Misha? Do you remember what you told me? About Wilms? That it had a 90% cure rate?"   
  
Jared stood up and flung the stack of books sitting in front of him on the coffee table across the floor.   
  
"How," Jared roared, "How can this happen?"   
  
Jeff stood, grabbing Jared's arms as the man started flailing, jerking around wildly, trying to hit something, trying to hit himself.   
  
"Why..." Jared started to sob, the strength leaving his body until he was sitting on the floor, Jeff hovering over him.  
  
"Why isn't he here?" 

* * *

  
The day of Thomas's funeral sat only as a series of snapshots in Jared's mind. He couldn't remember it, not fully. Couldn't remember how he felt.  
  
He remembered how humid it was. Black cars and black clothes and sweat.   
  
He remembered his wife's face, covered by a veil. She was all cried out then. Her face was bruised, sharp and malnourished and Jared's heart hurt when he looked at her.   
  
His suit didn't fit. It hung off his frame like curtains, sweat sticking to the sleeves and jacket.   
  
He was holding flowers. White flowers. He didn't know who organized the funeral. It might have been his father or his mother, standing to his left, sobbing in each other's arms.   
  
Could have been Megan Padalecki, holding hands with Jeff's son. Or Jeff himself, sitting stoically with Misha, Danneel, his wife.   
  
Chad attended, shooting concerned looks at his old friend. Dressed sharp, neatly shaved.   
  
Everyone was there. Except Jensen. 

* * *

  
After that, everything was silent.  
  
A viscous, heavy silent, one that fills each room, one that you could drown in.   
  
Jared kept waking up, hearing laughter.  
Sometimes he heard tapping on his hardwood floor, inelegant feet in tiny shoes.   
Sadie yelping when her tail was pulled by a rambunctious toddler.   
  
Jared could swear he even smelled baby poop sometimes, heart his son crying, heard him whispering "Daddy" in the middle of the night.   
  
Ghosts lived in that silence.  
  
And this is all too much.   
Every time he moves, every time he looks, every time he speaks, everything is Thomas and loss and pain.   
He sees his son in Genevieve's wide mouth, sees his eyes in her eyes, which no longer meet his.  
Sees his son in his mirror, shaggy hair and wide nose.   
  
So he stops looking in the mirror.  
  
Genevieve stops sleeping in their bed.   
And one morning she was just gone.   
  
_Jared_  
  
 _I went to Oregon. I don't know when I'm coming back._  
  
All she left was that note on the kitchen counter. And that was it.   
  
But worst of all was the pity. Everywhere he went, whether to the halls of his hospital, to his home, to the goddamn grocery store, he heard them whispering, saw their sad sympathetic eyes.   
  
The phone wouldn't stop ringing.  
  
"Jared, we heard, our condolences."  
"What happened? He was so young! We thought,"  
"Jared is there anything we could do to help?"  
  
One day he was getting another phone call, another number from some faceless nameless awful person and Jared lost it. Flung his phone against a wall, stood up and crushed it with his feet.  
  
Went into his bedroom, and started packing a bag.   
  
Jared avoided the mirror as he left his home, out of earshot of his mother, father, sister. He drove himself to the hospital first. He walked the silent halls, 2 am, only heard the beeping machines of the patient.  
  
"Jared, man! What are you doing?" Jared heard a familiar voice and turned around to see Chad.   
  
"I'm glad I caught you," Jared started. Chad grasped Jared's shoulders as he started to swivel.   
  
"I need you to do something for me."   
  
Chad gripped Jared tighter, trying to get a good look at his face.   
  
"How long have you known me, man? I'd do anything for you."  
  
"You need to tell them. Anybody that asks. That I couldn't. And I had to leave. I'm going to Denver."   
  
Chad let go of Jared, who jerked away and started walking towards the exit. Chad stared at him, picked up his phone and put in Misha's number.   
  
As soon as it started ringing, though, Chad hung up.   
  
"Damn it." Chad cursed under his breath.   
  
____  
  
"Its not safe for him to be alone," Jeff pleaded. Chad listened on the other end of the line.   
  
"I know. I know its not. You need to give me Ackles's number. I don't know if you know it. But I need to call him. I need to do something."   
  
"Jared BLAMED Jensen, don't you understand? I don't know what he's going to do to him when he comes to Denver. Here..." Jeff rattled the phone number he had hidden in his desk to Chad.   
  
Sherri, Gerri and Megan looked at Jeff expectantly as soon as he hung up the phone.   
  
Jeff signed deeply and rubbed his eyes.   
  
"He's going to Denver." 


	7. Chapter 7

"Is he there?" Jeff's voice sounded panicked and out of breath. Jensen glanced to Jared sitting stiffly on his couch and exited to the backyard, closing the glass door behind him.

"Yeah, he's here. He showed up at my door two hours ago. "

"What is he doing? Are you okay?"

Jensen paced the grass barefoot, incapable of getting rid of the crushing feeling he had sitting on his chest. He tried to breathe deeply, exhale the fresh mountain air, but it only seemed to make the weight on his chest increase.

"I'm fine. He said - he said that he wanted to talk to me about Thomas. Had a taxi waiting for him if I said no, but I let him in. He looks really bad. I mean -"

Jensen glanced back at Jared through the glass door. The other man hadn't moved.

"What happened?"

"He's gone, Jensen."

"...What?" Jensen felt himself stumble, heart beginning to race. Knowing but not wanting to know.

"The cancer came back. He had bone metastasis -" Wildly, Jensen had a sharp pang of deja vu, as if him and Jeff were just discussing another case. Like the good old days.

But this wasn't like the other cases, was it?

"We buried him a month ago. Jared's been... Jensen, be careful, man. Jared's been talking a lot, about you being responsible for it."

Jensen's voice caught in his throat.

"But," Jeff continued hastily, "He doesn't actually believe it. He's just looking for someone to blame. He's not acting rationally - if things get out of control, you call me. Immediately. And I'll fly out there and get him. I can do it right now, if you want me to."

"No," Jensen whispered. "I'll talk to him." 

* * *

Jensen silently slid open his patio door and closed it behind him. He stood, watching Jared.

Jared's eyes looked empty, circles under his eyes dark. He looked thinner than last time, too, skin waxy and unnaturally gray, bones jutting out dangerously, sharply.

Jensen walked over to the couch and sat down next to Jared. He's sat down next to Jared so many times before, the moon sitting next to the sun.

Jared, who was always bright and cheerful, whose eyes shone and changed colors like ocean waves. Jared, who was almost blinding, almost too much for the blind man to see for the first time.

Jensen couldn't help himself, his whole soul aching at just the sight of Jared, and he wrapped his arms around his old friend. It wasn't a particularly good hug - Jared's shoulder was poking Jensen in the chest and his body was so still that Jensen couldn't cave into it, couldn't give it any of his warmth - but it was all Jensen could do.

Jensen gently lay his forehead against Jared's shoulder and whispered,

"I'm so sorry, Jay."

In that moment, the stony silence of Jared broke and the younger man turned to Jensen and wrapped his arms around him in return, hugging so tight that Jensen's breath got lost somewhere in his brain.

Jared buried his face in Jensen's neck and Jensen could feel Jared as an extension of himself, could feel Jared's tremor and heave like a dam about to break.

And he did.

Jared began to sob, crying loudly and wetly and openly and Jensen just kept his arms around Jared, trying to keep his friend steady, trying to keep him grounded.

Jensen ached for Jared, wanted to kiss Jared, kiss his eyes and his cheeks and his forehead, stroke his hair and tell him it was all going to be okay.

But that would have been a lie. 

* * *

 

"I didn't know where else to go."

Jensen has brought a blanked and wrapped it around Jared's shoulders, who was shivering uncontrollably. They both knew it wasn't from cold, but neither acknowledged it.

Jensen uttered gently, "You have family. Friends. They all care about you, love you, are WORRIED about you."

Jared looked up at Jensen with distant, red-rimmed eyes.

"I couldn't stay there anymore. They all looked at me with these sad, pitying eyes. People kept asking me about him, kept whispering behind my back. I wanted to leave as soon as... as soon as the funeral was over. But I stayed. For Gen, my parents. Thats what a good husband would do. A good son. But..."

Jared leaned back on the couch until his head was touching the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

"But she left. And I couldn't find another reason to stay. So I... came here."

"Why....?" Jensen asked, the word coming out more breathless than he could have hoped.

Jared's chuckle sounded dry and insincere.

"I flew out here with the intention of punching you in the face, or getting some kind of confession that you didn't take out all the tumor just to spite me."

"I - " Jensen started.

"No, I know you didn't. Two hours of pure silence in a plane gave me time to think. I had no reason to blame you. We saw the scans. He was -" Jared paused and wrung his hands together, "Thomas was completely cancer free three months out. Completely."

"Oh." Jensen said. He wrung his mind for something else to say, something supportive, but couldn't.

"Uh, can I... make you some dinner, or something?" Jensen inquired as he cast a nervous glance at his watch. 1:22am.

"Can I... borrow your phone? I need to call a hotel and get a taxi, and I kind of... smashed mine." Jared said dryly.

"No, no! You can stay here. Please." Jensen blurted out before he could stop himself. Jensen stood up and walked rapidly to his bedroom, where he could find a pillow and another blanket that Jared could use.

Darting around his room, he picked up a ratty old over-sized t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that Jared might be able to wear.

When Jensen came back out of his room, Jared appearing to be in deep sleep, back turned and his face to the inside of the couch. Jensen sighed and set the clothes and blanket on the coffee table. He gently lifted Jared's head and placed the pillow under it. He fixed the blanket over Jared's body.

Jensen looked at Jared again, just for one minute. Laying on his couch, sad and vulnerable. He reached out his hand and tenderly stroked Jared's hair, just once, before pulling away and retiring to his bed for the night. 

* * *

Jensen showered for a long time that morning. His whole body was tense and aching and his hands felt jittery even before the morning coffee. None of this was good.

Especially now that Jared Padalecki was sleeping on his couch.

Jensen moved silently, grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, avoiding coffee in fear of waking Jared. He paused before leaving, looking through his fridge. He opened an adjacent drawer, took out a sticky note, and stuck it on the fridge, with the words "Have anything you like" scribbled on.

Jensen glanced at Jared once more before leaving for work.

* * *

Jeff was waiting in Jensen's office when he arrived.

Two giggling nurses rushed out of the room as soon as they noticed Jensen had come in, and Jensen sighed deeply before moving forward.

"G' morning. Hey, I haven't had any coffee yet so..."

"Jensen, sit down." Jeffrey said, putting one of the adjacent chairs out from a computer desk. Jensen moved towards it tentatively, dragging his feet.

When he looked at Jeffrey, he didn't see any kind of fury, only confusion.

"Whats going on?"

"His son, Tom, he... passed away. They buried him a month ago."

Jeffrey's face relaxed immediately and he leaned forward, placing a hand on Jensen's knee.

"Are you okay?" Jeffrey asked.

Jensen raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly. "Yes, of course. Jared, though, isn't doing so good."

Jeffrey nodded and leaned back in his chair, one hand stroking his beard.

"So he came to tell you in person? Thats awfully nice."

"Actually," Jensen gulped, "He's staying. I think. He's sleeping on my couch right now."

"How long is he staying for?" Jeffrey's voice was gruff, serious, and Jensen looked at him with as much sympathy and affection as he could muster.

"I... I don't know. Not long."

"Are we... me and you, are we still..." Jeffrey inquired, face unsmiling.

Jensen laughed in relief, caused Jeffrey to quirk his eyebrows.

"Of course. This doesn't change anything. At all. I promise. He was my friend once."

Jeffrey placed one hand on Jensen's, smiling gently.

"Didn't have you figured for such a bleedin' heart."

Jensen smiled sadly. He didn't used to be. 

* * *

When he returned home, Jared was still on his couch, laying with his face to the back. The lights were off completely. Jensen went into the kitchen to check his refrigerator.

Jared hadn't eaten anything.

Two days later, Jared hadn't moved. Hadn't changed clothes, hadn't showered. Jensen looked at him anxiously every time he crossed into the kitchen, shook his shoulder gently. Jared would often give a grunt or sigh and turn further into himself.

Well, at least he was alive.

Five days after Jared arrived on his doorstep, five days after Jared's been laying on his couch, starving and sometimes crying in the middle of the night, Jensen walked into his boss's office.

Dr. Samantha Smith sat behind her mahogany desk typing on her computer when Jensen knocked on her already open door and let himself in.

"Dr. Ackles!" she exclaimed.

"To what do I owe the pleasant surprise?"

"I have a small request, uh, Dr. Smith."

"Call me Sam, sweetheart," she beamed.

"Sam, I... um. I had a bit of a family emergency and I need to take three days off. Would that be possible?"

Dr. Smith furrowed her brow.

"Of course, dear. You'll be back on Tuesday, then?"

"Yes. I'll be on, I'll do extra rotations, whatever you need me to do."

Dr. Smith smiled.

"I'm sure we can find you something. Now, are you doing okay?"

Jensen nodded as he began walking out of the office. If he left right now, he'd be there by 11pm, maybe 12 pm that night.

Jensen got into his car and made sure he brought his phone, his chargers, his overnight bag. His car was on a full tank of gas.

Jensen started the car and began his 16 hour track to Houston, Texas.  
________

It had been dark for a few days.

Jared had gotten so used to the lights and sounds of Jensen's living, even over a few days, that the constant darkness rose an odd anxiety in him. Jensen was probably just staying with his boyfriend. The scruffy handsome dude who showed up at Jensen's house with a bottle of wine. Same dude that kicked Jared out of his son's surgery, as far as he could tell.

Well. Explains a lot.

But it had been dark for a few days and Jared was waking up. A little at a time. He was famished, so hungry that being awake was painful. He hadn't changed in the six days he had been there. Hadn't showered either. Started to smell his own stench, his sweat and misery.

Wanted to get off the couch, eat, shower. Work out and become human again. But his limbs felt like lead and no matter how much he tried, he just ended up falling back into a fitful sleep.

'This is what dying must be like,' he thought absently. His mind went instantly to Tom, to his son's final moments drifting in between the foggy pain of life and the nothingness of death.

The tears always came without warning.

So when the lights came back on, Jared woke up instantly. He didn't know how much time had passed but could definitely discern Jensen's steps.

And, something else...

 _Tap tap tap_ sounded a little bit like little claws, and the loud panting and - _oof_! suddenly a big furry creature was on top of Jared, licking his face and digging him out of his blanket cocoon. Jared jerked awake and sat up, hair sticking to one side of his face, facial hair long and unkept and frankly, pretty dirty.

Sadie whined loudly as she scampered to lick Jared, to nuzzle his face and Jared just laughed out loud, laughed and held her as she squiggled out of his arms. She jumped around in front of Jared with her tale wagging up a tornado, but Jared looked up at Jensen.

Jensen looked exhausted and was carrying a traveling suitcase with him, one of Jared's own, along with a small overnight bag.

"You..." Jared started. **Ooh**. His breath smelled awful.

"I brought you some clothes from home. In here, " Jensen motioned to the luggage.

"And Sadie. I brought 'er some food from your house. I hope thats fine. Let me set em' out." Jensen set the luggage down and opened it, pulling out Jared's large ziplock back filled with Sadie's favorite kibbles. Sadie ran up to Jensen and wagged her tail expectantly as Jensen took out two bowls from his pantry and poured some of the food in one, poured some water in another.

Sadie chowed down enthusiastically and Jensen smiled.

"I... I don't know what to say." Jared said, his voice hitching. Jensen only gave a reassuring nod.

"Hey man, I'm exhausted, I'm gonna hit the hay. If you wanna take a shower or something there's a guest bathroom on the second floor," Jensen pointed upstairs.

"Feel free to eat anything too," Jensen called out in passing before Jared heard the _thud_  of Jensen landing directly in bed.

When Jared made his way upstairs, Sadie training along and constantly trying to trip him, he entered the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.

Wow. He looked like shit.

He looked down and saw two nicely folded towels, with a sticky note next to them. It that simply said, 'Feel free to use these. Clean.'

Jared took out his toothbrush from the small baggy Jensen packed it into, and set it down. He was in Jensen Ackles's house, using the toothbrush Jensen Ackles drove to him from _fucking-16-hours-away-_ Houston and taking a shower.

Jared turned on the water and waited until it was scalding hot. Jensen has everything prepared for Jared already - shampoo that smelled like coconuts and body wash. A razor and shaving cream. A damn _loofa_. The whole nine yards. Jared felt his heart warm.

Jensen was the kindest person in the entire world.

* * *

Jensen and Jeffrey walked across the street to a Panera Bread for lunch. Jensen had been jumpy all day and Jeffrey was eyeing him suspiciously.

When the two of them sat down, Jeffrey started grilling immediately.

"So - how was settling Jared's affairs?"

Jensen stabbed his fork through his Fuji Apple salad. He watched the apple chips crumble so he wouldn't have to look up at Jeffrey.

"I drove up there and got his dog. And some clothes." Jensen put a forkful of salad into his mouth and chewed noisily. Jeffrey didn't move.

"You drove to Houston. There and back. To get his dog."

"I also got him some clothes and stuff. Yes."

"Sounds an awful like you're settling him in for the long haul."

Jensen finished chewing. "I'm not."

Jeffrey reiterated. "I don't think thats something friends do for friends, Jensen."

"I had to do something. He was just so sad. I had to -"

"Mmm." Jeffrey grunted, turning his attention to his sandwich. Jensen _shouldn't_ be feeling so awkward and guilty, should he?

Should he have just left Jared to rot on his couch, not moving or eating? That is something a good friend WOULDN'T do... right?

Jeff Padalecki had helped Jensen gather some things, got Jared a new phone that Jensen could bring back, and got both of them into Jared's house, which now stood completely empty of people.

"How's my little brother doing?" Jeff asked, tension in his voice.

"Not so good, man. Thats why I'm here."

"You think I should come out there with you? Get him home?"

"No," Jensen replied too briskly.

"No. He needs to be away for a bit and he's safe with me."

Jeff looked at Jensen in a curious way, the same way that Jeffrey was looking at Jensen now.

* * *

When Jensen got home, the first thing that hit him was the smell of cleaning product. The carpet looked vacuumed, the kitchen spotless. The couch empty.

Jensen took off his shoes. "Jared?" he called. Jared darted in from the backyard, Sadie following him noisily. His cheeks were flushed pink just like the tip of his nose and Jensen wanting to cry with joy.

"Hey." Jensen said, sheepishly.  
"Hey." Jared replied, running one of his hands through his hair. He stumbled forward a little bit.

"I, uh. I made you dinner. Chicken bolognese? I don't know if you like it. I'm not a great cook...But..."

"Thank you." Jensen replied quickly. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, no...I was waiting for you. To get home."

Jensen and Jared sat next to each other on Jensen's couch, placing their beers on his coffee table.

"I don't have a table yet - haven't settled in yet..." Jensen joked. He really hadn't bought a dining set - didn't ever feel like he needed a table and two extra chairs to be doing exactly what he was doing alone on the couch.

Jared took a gulp of his beer. He had already gotten seconds and Jensen watched with such a warm relief that he could hardly stand not to hug Jared.

"Does it taste okay?" Jared asked, looking up at Jared through his mess of hair.

"I know you don't really like pasta but thats all you had, and I didn't know if you wanted take out or how to get to a grocery store or where there IS a grocery store..."

"Jay," Jensen interrupted gently. Jared's face flushed immediately and he looked away.

"Its delicious," Jensen continued, "Thank you. So much. For cooking dinner."

They finished eating in silence and Jared stood up to carry the plates to the sink.

"So, I have an inflatable mattress." Jensen said as Jared washed the dishes.

"So you don't have to sleep on the couch anymore. It can't be that comfortable. I'll put it upstairs, so that could be your space. If you want." Jensen explained.

"I honestly don't want to intrude..." Jared stated loudly over the sound of rushing water.

"You wouldn't be intruding. You can stay here. I mean, until you get back up on your feet."

"What?" Jared called out, loudly scrubbing the frying pan.

"You can stay here," Jensen repeated, with more confidence. "Until you are ready to leave. I have no problem with you staying here."

Jared shut off the water and approached Jensen. They stared at each other with a respectful silence. Jensen could feel his heart speed up, lightning sparking between the two of them. The moment felt too heavy and Jensen couldn't -

"I'm going to go get it," Jensen called, running off to his room to search for the inflatable mattress. Jared sighed and went back into the kitchen to dry off the dishes.

* * *

Jared pumped the old fashioned mattress with his foot while Jensen searched for extra bed sheets. The 'guest room,' as Jensen called it, was a completely barren, white walled and grey carpeted children's bedroom. It was the nicest damn place Jared could imagine being. 

Jared stopped pumping and started to help Jensen get the cover sheet over the lumpy mattress. 

"Hey, I need to know. A while ago.. when I told you. That I, uh. Was gay. Why did you kiss me?"

Jared wrapped the cover sheet around his hand sharply before realizing what he had done, let go, and began stretching it in the opposite direction of Jensen.

"Oh. Just... You just looked so miserable. I didn't want you to feel alone. Or like something was wrong with you."

"And," Jensen continued, words quick, "about the night... when we went out to dinner. After Thomas's surgery."

"I don't remember much of that night." Jared replied sheepishly, finally getting the cover sheet over his corners of the mattress. Jensen leaned over and pulled both of his over too. Jensen didn't turn to face Jared, so Jared continued.

"We had a nice dinner - how we got home and what else happened... wish I could tell ya."

Jensen swallowed hard. He felt his eyes prickle but shrugged it off, hoping Jared didn't notice.

"I'm with someone." Jensen stated firmly.

"So... if you're gonna be staying here, no matter how short, you need to know not to do stuff like that anymore. Not for any reason."

"Of course. I'm sorry, Jensen. I was only trying to help."

Jensen grit his teeth as he tossed two blankets and a pillow over Jared's new mattress. _Only trying to help._

* * *

Jared couldn't sleep normally. After sleeping non-stop for almost a week, his body couldn't adjust to day or night and often his sleep was erroneous.

At least the nightmares were less frequent.

And Jared wasn't hearing Thomas's feet on Jensen's floor. Maybe because he didn't know what that would sound like.

Jared was instantly awakened when Jensen's alarm clock went off at 5:30 sharp every morning. Jared liked to lay silently, his eyes closed but his ears at full attention, hearing Jensen get ready for the days. The walls were almost paper-mache thin, typical of these new houses, and Jensen's bathroom vent connected directly with Jared's room.

But it was nice. Hearing Jensen curse or grumble in the shower. Hearing him sing hushed notes of "Hey, Jude" so on key and so softly that it sometimes lulled Jared back to sleep.

One morning, Jared listened to Jensen hum in the shower for a few minutes before he stopped. Jared didn't hear anything for a little while, just the water running down the drain.

A tiny whine coming through the vent sent all his nerve endings on end and Jared was instantly awake.

 _Was...was Jensen..._?

Jensen groaned just a little too loud, loud enough to confirm and **oh** \- Jared's heart began to race immediately, his face warming. He willed himself to close his eyes and go back to sleep, plug his ears, but a much bigger part of him was listening, not daring to make a sound, not wanting to miss a single hint, a single second...

Jensen breathed out loudly, pleased little noised escaping through the vent and Jared's mind went wild.

Jared imagined Jensen, skin hot and red from the water, soaped hands running along his swollen cock, forming a fist and jerking slowly and then quickly, harsh strokes from base to head. Maybe Jensen liked to run his hands along his balls, making it painful, making it last longer.

Maybe Jensen liked to finger himself, fucking himself gingerly, imagining someone opening him up...

Jared turned on his stomach on his mattress, trapping his erection between the mattress and his belly, half in shame and half to feel some friction, to feel closer to -

Jensen moaned slightly, intentionally trying to be quit and Jared jerked on the mattress, hands beginning for release.

He couldn't let himself, though.

A few minutes later, Jensen's shower turned off.

It was hard to fall asleep after that. 

* * *

Jensen had just gotten home and about to call Jared downstairs for takeout when he heard Jared's phone buzzing loudly. Jensen paused, not wanting to interrupt Jared's call.

Jared sighed loudly, enough so that Jensen heard him downstairs, but didn't answer it.

The phone began to buzz again. Jared didn't answer it.

"Jare?" Jensen called upstairs.

Jared's face peaked from behind the stairs. He looked panicked and Jensen tensed.

"Whats going on?"

"I'm getting phone calls."

"From who?"

"...Gen. Genevieve. Uh. My wife."

"Right," Jensen said sharply, his cheeks flushing for no damn reason.

Jensen cleared his throat. "Why don't you, uh... pick it up?"

Jared frowned. "I don't want to talk to her," he whined, but despite the playful tone of Jared's voice, an inkling of truth remained. Enough for Jensen to catch. And maybe push.

"Why?"

"I don't want to... Think about that life. Or whats going to happen. Its nice here. In the middle. Nothing is how it was, nothing is changing." Jared said, in pseudo-prose.

"Staying still isn't going to do you any favors, Jay," Jensen blurted out.

Jared descended a few stairs so now he was in full view of Jensen. Jensen ignored him and began to take the Chinese food boxes out of the paper bag.

The phone upstairs began to buzz again.

"Dammit, Jay, pick up the phone!" Jensen snapped, quickly losing his patience. Jared immediately darted upstairs and Jensen could hear a tiny hushed voice. He glowered and set the food on the coffee table as loudly as cardboard boxes can manage.

A few minutes later, Jared returned to the top of the stairs. Jensen didn't look at him, but was acutely aware of his movements, his space, his breathing, which was a little harder than before.

"She wants to meet me for coffee." Jared said finally, after a few minutes of silence.

Jensen sat down on the futon and begin opening boxes. He motioned for Jared to come down without looking at him and Jared tentatively descended the stairs.

"So I'm going to a Starbucks down the street from here. Uh. Tomorrow. She's flying through from Idaho and staying the night here as a layover."

"Hmm," Jensen grunted, stuffing his face with orange chicken and brown rice.

"What do you think she wants to talk about?" Jared wondered aloud as Jensen picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The noise drowned out the silence between them. 

* * *

Jensen was already at work as Jared used Jensen's iron to take the wrinkles out of his one nice shirt that Jensen had brought for him from home. The button up was a silver-blue and well-fitting, and Genevieve always liked that shirt.

As Jared finger-combed his hair behind his ears, he thought hard about what he'd like to say to his wife, who left without a word to Idaho three weeks before.

Jared thought about it and thought about it, thought about it while brushing his teeth, while putting his shoes on, while walking the four blocks to the agreed-upon Starbucks.

Kept thinking as he ordered a black coffee, mixed it with lots of cream and sugar, thought about it as he got a silent spot in a corner of the shop. Thought about it even as his wife walked through the door, looking so much like _herself_. Long chocolate brown hair, wide mouth, dressed to the teeth complete with designer sunglasses and a coat a tad too warm for the Colorado summer.

She cast him a quick smile as she ordered her coffee from the barista, maneuvered her big purse as she paid, and Jared watched her curiously, like he had never seen her before.

How long has this woman been a complete stranger to him?

"Jared!" she chirped as she neared him, setting down her coffee on the table. He quickly stood up and leaned in for a one-armed hug.

Genevieve sat down and finally removed her sunglasses. Jared was hit with a flood of relief when he saw his wife looked rested, the dark circles under her eyes almost inapparent.

"So..." Jared started, taking a quick sip of his coffee.

He hadn't thought of a thing he wanted to talk to Genevieve about.

"So..." Genevieve mirrored, her hands tinkering in her purse. They looked at each other blankly for a second before Genevieve spoke again.

"Look, lets not beat around the bush." she stated, as she took a thick yellow envelope out of her purse. She set it down on the table and pushed it across to Jared, as if the contents were dirty.

"Whats that?" Jared asked, oblivious.

"They are..." Genevieve quieted her voice after taking a quick glance throughout the coffee shop, "Divorce papers."

"Huh. Whose divorce?" Jared asked.

Genevieve pursed her lips and folded her arms in front of her.

"Ours. Our divorce papers. I'm filing for divorce. From you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Jared took another sip of his coffee, waiting for the ensuing panic to start. Was he going to start flipping tables, was he going to cry, was he going to beg for forgiveness? Jared felt like it was a bit hard to breathe, just for a moment, but then nodded. He reached for the yellow envelope and held it firmly in his calloused hands.

"Why?" he asked, voice steady.

Genevieve examined Jared closely, inquisitively, and he let her.

"You're not upset." she replied, blankly.

"I am upset, " he retorted, without being upset.

"Hmm." she voiced, pursing her lips again.

Jared hadn't really noticed the pursing lip habit before. Did she always do that? Did he always find it as obnoxious as he does now?

"After what happened," her voice quivered slightly but Genevieve breathed in deep and quickly regained her composure. "I knew I couldn't live in Houston anymore. Not where my baby died."

She paused. Jared waited.

"It said a lot. To me. When Tom was sick and we couldn't stand to be around each other. " Jared began to protest but Genevieve clenched her jaw and raised her palm, asking him to stop.

"I knew it after we got back from Denver. You were so much more comfortable, more trusting, more relaxed around him. Jensen. Marriage to me was being with your best friend, your confidant. And you didn't find friendship or trust in me. And..." she added, " I didn't find it in you."

"Tragedy either brings people closer together or tears them apart. Thats what happened to us. The best thing for me...for both of us... would be to get a fresh start."

Genevieve's voice was stern and serious but tears were swimming in her eyes. Jared smiled sadly at her and put his hand over her's, squeezing it. This almost set her off, almost to full tears.

"So...?" Genevieve asked.

Jared swallowed the lump in his throat. Of course she was right. Tom's tragedy should have sent him into his wife's arms.

"I hate that me and you and Tom became another statistic. Another Wilms tumor death, another divorce." Jared said, more as if he was thinking.

He reached into the envelope and Genevieve fished for a pen inside her purse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Seems like there actually isn't a correlation of more divorces for parents that have kids with cancer - but there IS a correlation with Wilms Tumor! (which is what little Tom had.) You're 150% more likely to get divorced in that case. Totally a lucky coincidence! 
> 
> Also... sorry if this part is a bit slow moving and has some spelling mistakes! Also - I would really like to give this fic a different title... any ideas?


	8. Chapter 8

The house was silent when Jensen came home. Jensen didn't even hear Sadie's snoring or grunting or running around. Hm.  
  
Jensen took his shoes off and looked out on his porch - he sighed with relief when he saw Jared in front of his grill, Sadie on the grass tearing apart some kind of stuffed animal.  
  
Jensen snuck up behind Jared and peered over his shoulder - Jared was slathering two huge, beautiful, juicy steaks and pouring butter over corn on the cob. Jensen's stomach growled loudly.  
  
Jared chuckled, as if hearing it, and used tongs to poke at the steak, watching the juices. The air was getting cool, but the sweet aroma of butter mixed with corn, the heat of the grill, and Jared's hair, smelling like coconut, _like Jensen_ , made Jensen's heart stir.  
  
Jensen waited for a minute for Jared to say something - an ill feeling was settling in his gut for every second Jared didn't react.  
  
Today was the day that Jared saw Gen, met his wife and Jensen's stomach was turning, his mind racing at the idea of the two of them hugging, kissing, agreeing to move back home.  
  
To leave Colorado. To leave Jensen.    
  
Jensen fidgeted.  
  
"Where'd you get the steaks?" Jensen asked, and mentally kicked himself. What a ridiculous question.  
  
"Figured out where the grocery store was." Jared replied, voice stable but monotone. Jensen's muscles tensed.  
  
"Glad that M.D. is being used for something," Jensen retorted jokingly. Jared didn't reply, kept staring at the grill.  
  
"Gettin' homesick?" Jensen continued.  
  
"Needed a real man's meal. All this granola-Colorado bullshit is gettin' to me - not enough protein is why you're all so tiny. You fit riiiight in." Jared replied, and glanced back at Jensen, a smirk on his face.

There was a gleam of light in Jared's eyes and Jensen felt himself relax immediately.  
  
He seemed okay.  
  
"Didn't realize the rare Sasquatch was migrating south, bud."  
  
"Global warming!" Jared called back as Jensen strolled back into the house.  
  
Jensen cleared the coffee table from last night's beer bottles. Sadie torpedoed through the door and began jumping on him and Jensen couldn't keep from laughing, wet paws and slobber staining his work clothes.  
  
Jensen and Jared sat side by side on the couch, knees grazing, slicing through their steaks, sipping on beer. The night's episode of How Its Made features Austin Martins and Jared and Jensen both stared wide-eyed.  
  
Jensen's body was warm, relaxed, his steak perfect, his boyhood love of James Bond making him giddy and skittish. He kept glancing at Jared, who was chewing and avidly watching the television.  
  
"So..." Jared cleared his voice. Jensen's eyes darted back to Jared's face.  
"She asked for a divorce."  
  
Jensen almost choked on his beer, swallowing quickly before turning his entire body to the still placid Jared.  
  
"Are you okay, man?" Jensen stammered out.  
  
"Yeah. I actually am." Jared replied casually, draining his beer.  
  
"I was an awful husband to her," Jared continued. He glanced at Jensen. "And, I was a shit friend to you."  
  
Jensen's eyes flashed back to the night Jared kissed him - remembered his mind reeling, panicking because _oh god oh god he's gay and Jared was beautiful, undeniably beautiful_ \- and how Jared kissed him, kissed him and touched him, grounded him, made him fly so high and _didn't even mean it_ and Jensen felt the bile rise in his throat.  
  
"Yeah." Jensen bit out.  
  
Jared stood up, grabbing his beer bottle and empty plate. He looked at Jensen, looked him right in the eyes, desperately, imploringly, saying something without saying it. Jensen looked away.  
  
"I had the best intentions, Jense. You have to know that."  
  
"Yeah." Jensen repeated again. He refused to look at Jared, afraid to give away what he knew he was showing. Couldn't move because he was shaking, couldn't speak because his voice was broken.  
  
Jared fought the urge to hug Jensen, to bring him in close and beg for his forgiveness because this man was being so kind to him right now, so good, and there was no way he could ever ever make it up to him.  
  
But he'd only make it worse. So Jared put his plate into the dishwasher, threw his beer away, and walked upstairs.  


* * *

  
Jensen wasn't expecting a bone marrow biopsy this morning - wasn't his job, the oncologists usually took care of the procedure - but he was there at eight in the morning anyways, alone with Jeffrey and an 18 year old kid who elected to be knocked out.  
  
Luckily, bone marrow biopsies are simple. Jensen opened the packaging for the large needle and drew a quick circle of antiseptic over the boy's upper buttock.  
  
"So," Jeffrey articulated slowly and Jensen stuck the needle into the boy's hip bone and pushed, waiting for the bone to give to marrow.  
  
"Jared is still staying with you."  
  
The tension of the bone slackened and Jensen stabilized the needle, withdrawing the red marrow slowly, making sure not to build up too much pressure in the bone. If he wasn't careful, the kid would be bruised and walking funny for a week.  
  
"His wife just divorced him and his kid died. Give the guy a break," Jensen defended, watching the accumulating blood carefully.  
  
"I'm not trying to be jealous," Jeffrey reiterated.  
"But this is the same guy that made you come out."  
  
"I _was_ pretty antisocial," Jensen grunted as he pulled the needle out of the boy's hip. He set the needle and the contents on a surgical tray and wiped the slightly bleeding wound with gauze.  
  
"You know what I mean." Jeffrey said, exasperated.  
  
"You should meet him. You'd like him." Jensen covered the boy with bandages and re-tied his gown.  
  
"Okay. Tonight, dinner at my place. 8 pm." Jeffrey retorted immediately. Jensen's eyes darted to Jeffrey to see the older man smirking. Waiting for Jensen to back down.  
  
"Great. See you tonight." Jensen said, and left the room.  


* * *

  
At least Jared knew how to work a crowd. And how to use his very Southern manners. He brushed his finger's gingerly over Jeffrey's whiskey globe, eyes shining as he found the switch to open it. Jared whistled low.  
  
"This looks like somewhere James Bond would live," Jared whispered to Jensen, elbowing him.  
  
The rooms were lit dimply, the floors a dark wood, spotless, the walls brown and red and covered with art. Jared maneuvered his way to Jeffrey's toppling bookshelf and examined the books.  
  
Jensen darted  his eyes towards Jared and back to Jeffrey, who was focused on the kitchen, placing a fat cut of salmon on a wooden board and taking it out to the grill on his balcony.  
  
Jared's fingers brushed the books spines, focused. Jared let himself stop on a spine that looked worn and distended and pulled the book out.  
  
"The Great Gatsby," Jared voiced dreamily, thumbing through the tattered edition carefully.  Jeffrey looked up from slathering the salmon with olive old and spices, eyes crinkling.  
  
"This was my favorite book. When I was in high school." Jared continued, looking back on the classic cover. The eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleburg looking omnipotently through the blue fog.  
  
"You know," Jeffrey lifted the salmon and walked it to his porch, where he placed it inside the grill. He walked back inside, wiping his hands on a towel. He approached Jared, crowded  him. Jensen's heart stirred uncomfortably.  
  
"That's one of my favorite books too." Jeffrey continued. His eyes were speculative, exploratory, and Jensen willed Jared to be his likeable self. Willed it so Jeffrey wouldn't keep asking Jensen _why why why Jared Padalecki was squatting in Jensen's house_ and why Jensen was 'okay' with it.  
  
Jared looked up past hair falling into his face into Jeffrey's eyes. Jeffrey's expression softened - so he looked into Padalecki's patent puppy-eyes.  
  
"I didn't get the metaphor. When I was a kid. About Dr. T. J. Eckleburg. That he was like - a god, watching, judging this frivolousness, the obsession with money. I get that now, but when I was a kid - I thought about the eyes a lot. Wondered what kind of man he was. Wondered if Eckleburg wanted to see people, understand them, help them. I liked that. I liked him. Even though he wasn't a character."  
  
"Mm." Jeffrey replied, small smile playing on his lips and Jensen knew right away that Jared said the right thing because his boyfriend was going to his whiskey-globe and pouring two glasses, handing one to him.  
  
Jared's eyes sparkled, an easy smile spread across him face and Jensen didn't like the way Jared and Jeffrey were looking at each other in the least.  
  
Jeffrey kept looking back at Jensen, who was pensive, and he sure as hell noticed how Jensen's eyes kept floating back to Jared, like Jared was magnetic.  
  
Well. He couldn't really blame Jensen. Jared was so aloof, treating his apartment like an Indiana Jones movie, delicately lifting his precious artifacts and asking about them. He had this smile, where he wasn't showing his teeth, where his lips arched almost like he didn't want to smile, but his dimples softened his face - and Jeffrey got it.  
  
Jeffrey served the baked salmon and asparagus and opened a bottle of red wine, the three of them sitting down at a dining table, Jeffrey at the head and Jensen and Jared on either side.  
  
After the second bottle of wine, Jeffrey disappeared, coming back out with an acoustic guitar. The guitar was polished dark, matching Jeffrey's floors and walls and persona and it was so ridiculous that Jensen sat down next to him.  
  
Jeffrey's fingers are calloused from pressing the strings and maybe Jensen's are too, now, because Jeffrey's voice is low, raw and scratchy and Jensen is looking at him lovingly, but his eyes keep finding Jared's, darting away.  
  
Jeffrey hands Jensen the guitar and Jared bites his tongue, trying to wake himself up from this wine-induced dream.  
  
But Jensen started to strum, started to sing and Jared couldn't peel his eyes away. Didn't notice Jeffrey watching him. Wouldn't notice the world falling apart, if it did.  
  
 _"I can make you satisfied in everything you do..."_

There was a slight twang in Jensen's voice, the Texas coming out in him though he spend 8 years in Northern California, and his eyes, his summertime eyes, so green, were on Jared and then they were closed, eyelashes rushing his cheeks and Jared was holding his breath -  
  
 _"All your secret wishes could right now be coming true..."_  
  
Jared inhaled and exhaled, Jensen's voice reverberating through his ribs and he closed his eyes.

* * *

  
"I didn't know you could play," Jared whispers dreamily, his voice hoarse. "You sounded so nice." Jared was leaning hard into Jensen, head lolling on his shoulder and Jensen wrapped his arm around Jared.  
  
 _To stabilize him_ , he thought.  
  
"He's cool. Super cool." Jared slurred happily, his feathery hair tickling Jensen's cheeks. He should be mad, but instead tenderness blossomed in his heart. He strengthened his grip around Jared.

* * *

  
Jeffrey Dean Morgan was a hip dude with a salt and pepper beard, big black glasses, arms covered with bracelets, a bookcase filled with classic books and fucking Doctors Without Borders under his belt.  
  
Also. He was fucking Jensen. He had _Jensen_ under his belt. And Jared couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop imagining them all night, even if he wanted to.  
  
With the last of his power Jensen had hauled Jared into his bedroom and Jared thrust himself into the blow up mattress, sober enough to know that Jensen didn't leave his room right away. Sober enough to know that Jensen _lingered_.  
  
Jeffrey Morgan knew his fucking wine, played the guitar, was zen as fuck and knew how to cook and knew how to please Jensen. Damn. _Damn damn damn._  
  
And there Jared was, a tipsy freeloading asshole, divorced and with a dead son, and Jensen is laying downstairs alone in his room, taking care of him like a fucking saint.

* * *

  
Sadie and Bisou chased each other in the backyard while the three of them sat on the couch, the porch door open enough to let the warm breeze circulate through Jensen's practically unfurnished house.  
  
Jensen was sitting between Jared and Jeffrey, fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh. He was obviously tense, fidgety and nearly jumped when his pager started going off.  
  
"Give me a minute," Jensen mumbled quickly, dialing the number on the pager and getting up from the couch. Jared glanced at Jeffrey, who was looking right on back, big sincere smile on his face.  
  
"Sorry -" Jensen started, and the two of them looked away from each other and focused on Jensen. Jensen recoiled, clearly uncomfortable.  
  
"Uh. I'm being called in to do a biopsy. It shouldn't take long. The two of you should, uh - feel free. To hang out. If you want." Jensen curled his mouth and threw on his jacket. He leaned over to plant a quick kiss on Jeffrey's mouth and waved awkwardly at Jared, whose face was blank all of a sudden.  
  
Well.  
  
As soon as Jensen closed the front door, Jeffrey reached into his pocket. He only winked at Jared as he began rolling the joint.  
  
"We can't..." Jared starts but Jeffrey shushes him.  
  
"We live in Colorado for a reason, kiddo."  
  
"Right," Jared whispered. His voice was caught up in his throat and his heart was beating too fast.  
  
Jeffrey took out a silver Zippo from his jeans pocket and flicked it open, lighting up the joint. He motioned for Jared to come outside to Jensen's porch and Jared followed gladly.  
  
Jeffrey laid down on the damp cool grass, out of site from the neighbors, and Jared followed suit.  
  
The thick, pungent smoke was keeping the mosquitoes staying away, and the sun was setting so quickly that soon enough only the streetlamps and the flame form the joint was lighting their faces.  
  
Jeffrey handed the joint to Jared, and Jared took a long puff, coughing loudly.  
  
He hadn't done this since undergrad.  
  
"Hey, man, " Jeffrey whispered, voice high and dreamy.  
  
"Why are you getting divorced? You know, I'm a divorce expert. Two under my belt and that was just with women. Wait til I start marrying men."  
  
"How does that work?" Jared's tongue is tied and he sounds dumb to his own ears and he tries to explain, but his voice is coming out slow, nonsensical. "You were married to women and now... you and Jensen?"  
  
"I'm a late bloomer." Jeffrey's cologne was sweet, musky, and mixing with the pot becoming ethereal.  
  
"Maybe it was about opening my mind and shit but man - men, women, I mean - look at you. And Jensen. That boy," Jeffrey sighed dreamily, "Makes me wonder why I ever fucked women in the first place."  
  
Jared's voice hitches.

"What... is that like? Why... is... is fucking Jensen so great?" And Jared's voice sounds unsure, unconfident and Jeffrey passes the joint to the boy, who is probably blushing, while Jeffrey chuckled.  
  
"You wanna know what he likes?" Jeffrey drawled and Jared got hot all over, his dick stirring. Jeffrey nudged slightly closer to Jared and whispered, quietly, so close to Jared's ear that he could swear the man's beard was tickling his face.  
  
"You know I'm not gonna tell you that. I'm a gentleman. Besides, you should find out for yourself." Jeffrey whispered hotly into his ear and Jared wanted to protest, not sure he was hearing right, but the grass was so sweet and cool against his hot skin and he felt so heavy that he just smiled dumbly at Jeffrey.  
  
"I can tell you about both though. And maybe your boy is in these stories. Maybe not."  
  
"Mm..." Jared groaned, holding his breath to be able to hear Jeffrey's ragged words.  
  
"The girls are always so soft and sometimes they play coy and shy and cover themselves up, even if they're willing to ride you and peg you. Women are an art - but you know that. Soft skin and lips, kissing them where they like their thighs, pulling their hair, they liked that and that's all I knew, man."  
  
"But the boys were different. More gruff, less art, hard from too much or too little booze, hard from the right breath in the ear," Jared shuddered,

"Half of them thinking they're straight but all fire around you. No inhibitions. I miss pulling hair though - the boys never grow it out long enough." Jared felt hands playing with the strands of his long hairs and he closed his eyes. "But some... like your boy..."  
  
Jeffrey sighed audibly and Jared arched. The grass against him was starting to feel like a waterbed and he was swimming, high off the sweet words that Jeffrey was dripping  
  
"Wants to be thrown around, wants his back clawed, likes those bruises and hickeys. He's real sweet, real shy, but not tentative for a minute to top me and fuck me and its...its bliss."  
  
"Your boy is too pretty. Those golden eyelashes, freckles all over his skin, everywhere. He's candy sweet each time and so desperate, wants more. Always. Fuck." Jeffrey thrust his hips upward, just slightly but Jared saw the movement and felt goosebumps all over his body.  
  
"You want that, don't you," Jeffrey purred into Jared's ear.  
  
"I'm straight," Jared whined softly.  
  
"Sure you are." Jeffrey nodded to the very obvious bulge in Jared's pants, tight and hot and uncomfortable. Jared didn't bother trying to hide it.  
  
"Lots of buds wanna hear about their buds being fucked." Jeffrey teased and Jared blushed deeply, his mind reeling.  
  
"He's mine," growled Jeffrey, a charged grumble that shot through Jared's spine.  
  
"Good," whispered Jared. _Good because I've been shit to him. Good because I don't deserve him. Good because you're so damn cool and he seems so happy._  
  
Jeffrey got up and extended a hand out to Jared, who clasped, hot hands and electric fingertips _fingertips that touch Jensen_ and they made their way into Jensen's kitchen. Bisou and Sadie followed close behind, probably confused about their owners laying on the grass for hours and whispering like schoolgirls.  
  
When Jensen came home, four hours later and so drained that he was ready to face plant into bed, Jeffrey and Jared were passed out on the couch, box of fruit snacks and granola bars and sour rope in front of them on the coffee table. The sweet musk of marijuana emanated from them and Jensen couldn't help but smile.

* * *

  
 Jeff flips his wrist and checks the time. It wasn't like Jensen to be late to their lunch meetings, and the second cup of coffee that Jeffrey was holding was quickly getting cold. August was coming to a close and the air was getting chilly, the trees switching from green to yellow.  
  
After another ten minutes, Jeffrey sighed and made his way back into Children's Hospital and made the trek to the 9th floor, where Jensen's office was. Everyone was out on their lunch hour except for the hunched figure of Jensen in the back of his office. Jeffrey shook his head and jimmied the door open.  
  
As he approached Jensen, he saw that Jensen was obsessively, repeatedly watching a video. A video of a surgery. Jensen's face was so close to the screen that his nose was almost touching him and his fingers twitched over the mouse, playing over one minute. The surgery looked to be on the kidneys, the right kidney, the removal of a large invading tumor all around.  
  
Jensen replayed and his eyes were red rimmed and dim and Jeffrey set down the coffee, reaching out a hand to put on Jensen's shoulder.  
  
"Jense?" Jeffrey asked. Jensen turned slowly towards Jeffrey, his eyes glassy with tears.  
  
"I made a mistake. On Tom's surgery."

* * *

  
"I have to tell him." Jensen murmured, absently sipping on the cold coffee than Jeffrey just brought in. Jeffrey was sitting across from him, green eyes laced with concern and one hand on Jensen's knee.  
  
"I nicked a blood vessel and I didn't remove one of the lymph nodes. I didn't even notice it, its so tiny and he as bleeding so much. I ... " Jensen's eyes looked distant.  
  
"He trusted me and I hurt his son. I destroyed his life and I killed a little boy. Because of a dumb mistake. Because I was distracted."  
  
"No," Jeffrey asserted, fingers squeezing Jensen's thigh.  
  
"If you really made a mistake - really made a mistake. Then his first scan wouldn't be clean. Right?"  
  
Jensen didn't appear to be listening.  
"He's gonna hate me," Jensen whimpered, not able to control his voice, and his body began shaking, simply at the prospect of telling Jared. Jared, who didn't cry every night anymore. Jared, who sometimes smiled.  
  
Jared. _Who he was still fucking in love with._  
  
"He's not gonna hate you..." Jeffrey reassured, and it didn't seem like an empty reassurance to Jensen. It sounded an awful lot like Jeffrey was sure, completely confident, like he wasn't telling Jensen something.

* * *

  
That night, Jensen knocked on Jared's door, only to have it creak open. Jensen glanced inside. Jared was sitting on the blow up mattress, his traveling suitcase open in front of him, filled with folded clothes.  
  
"Jare..."  
  
"Jensen." Jared said quickly, standing up immediately. His eyes were sad and Jensen's heart sped up.  
  
"I... uh." Jared motioned to his suitcase.  
  
"Going. Back to Texas. Uh. Tomorrow."  
  
"Oh." Jensen deadpanned. The two men didn't move, didn't dare lock eyes.  
  
"I left my work there. You know. Misha's been real good to me about taking some time off after Tom. But my home is there and my family is there. And I'm ready... to face them. So." Jared motioned to his suitcase again, as if not knowing what else to do with his octopus limbs.  
  
"What time?" Jensen asked, voice barely audibly.  
  
"At 11. In the morning."  
  
"Oh. Uh. Can I drive you?" Jensen asked. He glanced around the room again. The completely empty children's room with the grey carpet and the white walls and the packed suitcase started to close in on him.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, of course man. I. I thought you had work."  
  
"I can get covered," Jensen insisted. The words that he wanted to say sat heavily on his tongue.  
  
Why would he tell Jared, if Jared was just going to leave tomorrow? Jared would leave hating Jensen and Jensen couldn't stand the thought. Not even a little bit.  
  
"Do you - do you want some take out? Or something?" Jensen stumbled through his words, suddenly unsure, suddenly more sad than he feels like he should be. Suddenly overcome with the need to pin Jared down with his body and keep him from leaving. Ever.  
  
"No - I'm not hungry. Thank you. Jensen. I - uh. I also left you a check. For the food and the drinks and just - keeping me here. For so long. It was... I didn't deserve it. You being so good to me. I..." Jared cleared his throat and brushed his hair out of his face.

Jensen clenched his firsts, limbs frittering, eyes glittering with what he hoped Jared wasn't seeing.  
  
"Thank you." Jensen chokes out, as formally as he could manage, and walks quickly out of the room.  
  
Jared was leaving.

* * *

  
The next morning, Jensen showered, made coffee, and lingered anxiously in the living room, listening for Jared's signs of life.  
  
Jared lumbered downstairs, dragging his suitcase loudly.He wouldn't look at Jensen, and Jensen couldn't stand to say anything.

  
The two of them climbed inside of Jensen's car and Jensen drove, not turning on the radio. His heart raced and his hands shook. _I need to tell him I need to tell him I need to tell him._

But it was so conflicting because wanted to beg Jared to stay. To tell him that the house would be empty without him. That he had missed him. That he was going to miss him.

That he loved him _then_ , selfish as he was. That he loved him now. Loved him though his eyes were sadder, though he was thinner, though he smiled less, though he didn't touch Jensen anymore. Loved him so damn much that waking up in the same house, in the same state, made him feel like himself.

But neither one of them said anything. Jared was focused on the scenery outside, empty fields and roadwork.

When Jensen pulled up to the passenger drop-off, both men got out of the car. Jensen popped the trunk and took out Jared's luggage, handing it to the taller man. Jared smiled sadly.

"Thank you. Jensen. For everything. I'm probably going to drive by in a week or so - pick up Sadie. If you don't mind."

"Of course not," Jensen said sincerely, trying to catch Jared's eyes, but Jared was avoiding him, looking at the pavement. He was hunching his body.

Jensen leaned in for a hug, both arms tight around Jared's waist, and Jared gasped, surprised, but wrapped his arms around Jensen tightly.

And maybe they hugged just for a beat too long, maybe Jensen was remembering the feeling of Jared breathing against him, his heartbeat rabbit-fast, and maybe they pretended neither one of them noticed when they parted.

"I hope you have a happy life, Jensen. Thank you, again." Jared said, his eyes glassy with an indiscernible emotion. Jensen's mouth went dry and he couldn't think of a word to say, so he only nodded and waved, stunted. Jared grabbed his suitcase and walked through the automatic doors.

  
Jensen's climbed into his car and breathed out, shaking. Then, he immediately took out his phone and dialed Jared's number.

  
"Jense?" Jared's voice was out of breath, excited, hopeful, and Jensen pushed on, afraid that he was going to lose his guts.  
  
"I made a mistake. On the surgery. On Tom's surgery. I made a mistake and if I hadn't, the cancer might not have metastasized."  
  
"What?" Jared's voice fell and silence spawned between the two of them. The traffic controller in front of Jensen urged him to move along, he was crowding the drop off lane, and Jensen waited for a second longer, before the traffic controllers waving forward got angry and erratic and he started to drive along.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Jared. You were right. I made a mistake." As Jensen drove away, he saw Jared's huge figure try to run back out. The last thing Jensen saw was panicked eyes, wild hair, large body.  
  
A man that he loved who was leaving. That's it.  
  
Jensen clenched his teeth. His next stop would be Jeffrey's.

* * *

  
  
"This is a pleasant surprise!" Jeffrey exclaimed, opening his front door in a long black robe with a coffee cup in his hands. His beard look a little unkempt and the man looked more weary. The panic rising up in Jensen's throat roared all new as he saw this ridiculous gorgeous man.  
  
Jensen walked inside.  
  
"Uh. We need to talk."  
  
"Mmm. Never had a good conversation that started like that."  
  
"Yeah." Jensen said, tentatively; Jeffrey, eyes lidded heavily, pointed Jensen towards the couch to sit down.  
  
"I don't think we should be together. Anymore."  
  
"Hmm." Jeffrey takes a long sip from his coffee and adjusts his glasses to the tip of his nose.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Jensen started, his eyes pleading with Jeffrey.  
  
"You're amazing. Just. _God_. Perfect. In every way. But."  
  
Jeffrey just nodded slowly, eyes distant.  
  
"Can't say I'm not disappointed, Jense. But I've been waiting for this. The second I saw Padalecki on your couch two months ago, I knew our days were numbered. But it was fun." Jeffrey used his free hand to trace Jensen's jaw, and examined his face with such tenderness that Jensen immediately regretted his decision.  
  
"I'd say its your loss but - the Padalecki kid ain't too bad either. He's a lucky guy."  
  
"He's - Jeffrey. He's straight. And he flew back to Texas. This morning. I - " Jeffrey leaned in and put a single arm around Jensen. Jensen sunk immediately into the hug, comforted by the scent of Jeffrey's lingering cologne and the feel of hands that have been only his for eight months now against his back.  
  
"You should tell him." Jeffrey said, so close to Jensen's ear that Jensen shivered.  
  
"He knows," Jensen said, miserably. "He's straight and he knows. And he knows I hurt his kid. He's gone."  
  
Jeff let out a low, sad chuckle.  
  
"You should still tell him."

* * *

  
  
Jeff Padalecki waited at the airport, tapping his fingers absently against his steering wheel. Its been months since he's seen his brother, and last time Jared was out of his mind, gangly and sad and angry.  
  
That wasn't the same person that knocked on his car window shortly after.  
  
Jared looked _good_. He had put on some weight, not completely restored to his previous healthy self, but brighter. His skin was almost tanned, like he's actually seen sunshine. His cheeks were pink and he had a smile on his face. Despite the physical health, Jared's eyes looked a little sad and Jeff unlocked his trunk, motioning for Jared to put his bags in the back.  
  
"Little brother!" Jeff called out, leaning across the seat to envelop Jared in a half-hug. Jared hugged back happily, warm to the touch.  
  
"You look good." Jeff said, sincerely, and Jared nodded, one side of his lips arching.  
  
"Where to?" Jeff asked. Nobody had touched Jared's house since Jensen stopped by to pick up clothes and Sadie.  
  
"To the old house. I need to pick stuff up. I told Jensen I'd come back and pick up Sadie." Jared was speaking but he was distant, unfocused.  
  
Jeff pulled out of passenger pick up and started driving the familiar road back to downtown Houston.  
  
"How is Jensen, by the way?"  
  
Jared's voice hushed. "He's different."  
  
"Different. How?"  
  
Jared chuckled, looking out the window towards the blue sky.  
  
"Here he was all routine and strictness and he never laughed. You know. _Ever_. And there he's so - free. I don't know. He's with someone."  
  
Jeff made a surprised noise and grinned wide. That didn't sound like Ackles at all.  
  
"Who is the lucky lady, then?" Jeff exclaimed, his free hand playfully punching Jared.  
  
"Uh. Genevieve asked for a divorce."  
  
Jeff glanced at Jared, panicked, and pulled his hand away.  
  
"Oh man. Oh, little brother. That's such shit. You okay?"  
  
"I think so. I'm just... _confused_." Jared emphasized the word confused, as if he didn't know it was the right word to use, and Jeff nodded. Jared's whole life was turned upside down.  
  
He _should_ be confused.  
  
Jared himself, though, was filled with turmoil. Jensen's phone call and the rage sitting deep within his chest, overwhelmed with loneliness, overwhelmed with feeling like a stranger in his own home town and...  
  
 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

* * *

  
  
When Jared unlocked his front door and waved Jeff to drive away, he half-expected to have Sadie tackle him at the entrance. Half expected to hear Genevieve playing with Tom.  
  
Jared sighed. The house was still filled with ghosts.  
  
He walked in tentatively, ears screaming for some noise but silence overwhelming.

He had so many dreams for this home. He lays down his traveling case and rounds the house, taking down photographs, not sure what he was doing with them, taking down wedding photos of him and Gen that she didn't take, taking down Tom's baby photos, stacking them.  
  
Some of the furniture was gone. Gen's side of the closet was cleared out. Jared stared at his side of the closet for a while, contemplating whether to pack his clothes.  
  
There was now way he was living here anymore.  
  
He quickly looked up a realtor on his phone and gave a quick call.  
  
"Yeah. I wanna sell the house immediately."  
  
Jared pulled out in his car, all the pictures piled into his suitcase, a suit and nice pair of shoes and some watches, his toothbrush and Tom's old booties, his son's birth bracelet piled into his backseat, and drove to the nearest motel.

* * *

The next morning, Jared walks into Misha's clinic.  
  
"Padalecki!" Misha exclaimed. He had been sitting at his table, wearing glasses with beads keeping them on his head like a librarian. At the sight of Jared, he positively bounced and hugged the taller man tight around the waist.  Jared leaned into the shorter man's hug and smiled.  
  
"So good to have you back." And then Misha started talking a mile a minute, so fast the Jared didn't catch everything. Something about hiring a new intern because he missed having a frizzy haired monster around, so _here here_ \- they walked through a scrub-in room and Misha pointed towards a short man with a sharp nose, long brown hair and fierce sideburns - _Richard here, we call 'im Dick, he's great you'll love him_ \- something about coming back to work, something about Chad going back to school to be a nurse practitioner - _good for him! he's a smart kid_ \- and something about Danni vacationing with her brother in Brazil and something something something - Jensen.  
  
"Speaking of - " Jared quickly added, before Misha could continue his rant.

"I need your medical opinion on something." Misha nodded and Jared directed the both of them back to Misha's office.

"Can you pull up Tom's scans?" Jared rasped, voice quiet. Misha's expressive eyes looked disappointed.

"This again? Jare - Jensen didn't make a mistake."

"He did," Jared protested weakly. "He told me. Do we have his surgery video?"

Misha sighed.

"Yeah. He sent it a couple of days back. I was worried about this. But -"

Misha pulled a chair next to his computer but Jared refused to sit. Misha shrugged and pulled up the video of Tom's surgery.

They watched in silence, Jared's heart in his throat. _He couldn't tell something was wrong_. Instead, it looked just as careful and beautiful as all of Jensen's surgeries.

Misha glanced up at Jared and saw the perplexity. Misha sighed loudly, enough to get Jared's attention.

"Do you want to know his mistake? Before I tell you - its not going to make a difference in Tom being alive or dead."

"Yes." Jared whispered, his knees shaking. He did decide to take that seat, after all.

"Look here," Misha pointed a short finger as he replayed the last three minutes of the video. A small pool of blood formed around the kidney and Jensen was dabbing it and there - one second - was a lymph node. A slightly inflamed lymph node. Almost not noticeable to the human eye.

Jared bolted up, fingers in his hair and clasping his head, panic throughout his entire body, skin buzzing, eyes prickling.

"How likely - that this was - the reason?" Jared said, his voice hiccuping.

Misha exhaled sharply.

"Not very. But enough. Maybe 3%. Maybe 5%. You could probably sue him over it - its an honest mistake but he provided proof. Legally, you could make a case for negligence."  
  
"Mish... I.. " Suddently, the hospital was too much. Suddenly the surgeries, the tumors, the stench of antiseptic was too much, and Jared knew right away what he was going to do.  
  
"I don't think I can do this fellowship anymore." Jared said, voice somewhat broken.  
  
"...We can find you a job in general surgery here." Misha stated slowly, watching for Jared's reaction. Jared looked like he was about to lose it, about to blow, face red, but he seemed to be staying calm enough.  
  
"No, I mean. I'm not staying in Houston."  
  
"Where are you going to go?"  
  
"I don't -"  
  
"Back to Colorado? To Jensen?"  
  
"I - "  
  
"Even after you saw this? You still want to see him?"

"It was - an honest mistake. He didn't - I'm - its not going to change anything. Right?"  
  
"Oh you guys." Misha pretended to be wiping a tear from his left eye, all seriousness gone from his expression.  
  
"I knew Ackles was gone for you. Didn't know you felt the same."  
  
"I'm - no - I'm straight." God damn it. How did Misha always fucking know everything?  
  
"I'll come back to Colorado to pick up Sadie - after that, I dont know. Maybe head back out to Standford. I still know some people there, can probably find work out there. And if -"  
  
"If he wanted you to stay, you would?"  
  
"Yes," Jared chocked out.

He should be angry, so angry. He should fucking hate Jensen for putting his son in any kind of danger. For making a mistake. But he didn't. He just didn't.

He only wanted to come _home_.

* * *

  
Jared slept that night in the hotel and woke up expecting to hear Jensen doing his morning routine. Grumpily showering, hot coffee, running out the door. But Jensen wasn't there. Probably was never going to be there again.  
  
He drove to San Antonio and rung the doorbell of his childhood home. His momma opened the door almost immediately, face bright and shining.   
  
"Baby," Sherri exclaimed, thrusting her tiny arms around him and Jared complied, putting his chin on top of her head.  
  
"Hey, Momma. Long time."  
  
"Come in baby, come in."  
  
Sitting on the couch in his warm home that smelled just like apple pie, Jared tried to find the right words.

"Momma, Gen left me." Sherri's eyes opened wide and she clasped Jared's hands in her soft, wrinkled ones.  
  
"Oh baby -"  
  
"No. Its okay. I - I'm okay. I had to come here and tell you. I'm not gonna stay in Texas. I gotta move on."  
  
"Baby," Sherri repeated. She started brushing his hair with her fingers and Jared relaxed. Jared felt warmth in his chest, reminiscent of when he was sick as a child and Sherri would brush his hair with her fingers for hours, murmuring how much she loved him as he napped on her lap.  
  
"I've been staying. With Jensen. He spent last Thanksgiving with us."  
  
"Oh. _Jensen._ " Sherri's words were harsher than Jared expected and Jared sat straight back up, his eyebrows raised.  
  
"Whats wrong with Jensen?"  
  
"Well, honey..." Sherri's words were careful, slow.

"He's gay, isn't he?"  
  
"Whats wrong with Jensen being gay?" Jared's voice got louder and Sherri shrunk away, looking away.  
  
"Well, young divorced man living with a single gay man. People are gonna talk, honey. I don't want you to go through that."  
  
"I don't give a damn what you want." Jared bit out angrily. Sherri looked at him so sadly and Jared immediately wished he could take his words back.  
  
"Momma, I'm sorry, he's my friend. I'm not - he's not - we're not living together. He was just helping me out."  
  
Sherri's expression softened.  
  
"Honey. I understand. And I'm so sorry." She hugged him again, but it felt insincere. Jared glowered almost the rest of the day, not being able to let go of Sherri's expression when she spat out _gay,_ like Jensen was dirty. And deep inside, he knew damn well his hurt wasn't just in defense of Jensen. He pushed that feeling to the back of his mind.  
  
Jared spent the night at his parents home, getting his fill of biscuits and gravy in the morning before making the trek out to Colorado.

* * *

Jared sounded cold and distant over the phone, which didn't lessen Jensen's unease. How did Jared feel about him? Had he seen the video? The call he got from Misha three days prior definitely implied it, but Misha didn't seem concerned, only joyful. Chirping about Jared leaving Texas permanently and selling his home like it was a _good thing_. Like Jared wasn't going through a crisis.

Jensen sat on his couch, pretending to read e-mails, waiting for that inevitable knock on his door. Sadie was resting next to Jensen on the couch - in sprite of him trying to train her to stay off - and wagging her tail weakly. Almost as if she knew her good friend was going to be coming through that door any minute now.  
And taking her away.

Jensen felt like he had sat on the couch for hours before he heard three knocks on his door, evenly spaced, and only Jared would knock when there was a doorbell so Jensen bolted upright and waited a few seconds, in fear of seeming to eager, then went to answer the door.

Jared was standing in front of him, in low slung jeans, a black t-shirt and cowboy boots, hair in his eyes and strained smile on his face. Jensen's heart jumped, though he hoped that it didn't show on his carefully neutral face.

"Hey." Jared said.

"Hey." Jensen mirrored, stepping aside to let Jared into his house. Sadie jumped up from the house and attacked Jared at once, and Jared laughed, laughed high and open and Jensen suddenly felt like this place was really _home._

"Hey, girl," Jared teased Sadie's head and took out a leash, trying to get it on her. Sadie was so excited to see Jared that she didn't seem to mind getting hooked to the leash. Until she felt it pull on her neck and suddenly big brown eyes looked full of betrayal.

"Um." Jared nodded curtly at Jensen and tried to walk Sadie outside, out the door and to his car, away from Jensen. But Sadie wouldn't budge, her claws catching against the carpet.

"Come on, Sadie," Jared grunted out and Sadie started whining, high pitched and Jared's hands went slack. He let go of the leash and Sadie walked away from him, into Jensen's room.

"Jared." Jensen spoke clearly. Well, if this isn't a sign, he didn't know what was.

"I want you to stay. Here. With me. You don't have to - you don't have to go."

Jared's eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He stared at Jensen, who felt heat creep up his neck and into his ears. Jared blinked a few times.

"I'm - Jense, are you sure?"

Jensen nodded.

"Yeah. Please. I want you to stay."

Jared breached the distance between the two of them in less than a second, large arms and warmth enveloping Jensen, flyaway hairs tickling Jensen's face but Jensen didn't care, Jared solid against him, and Jensen gripped desperately at the fabric of his t-shirt, wanting only to get closer.

It felt damn well like the start of something new.


	9. Chapter 9

If inviting a straight man that you're in love with to move in with you is wrong, well.

Jensen was pretty damn wrong.

If leaving your available perfect boyfriend who you work with because you're a goddamn idiot and are in love with a straight dude is wrong, well.

Jensen couldn't be wronger.

So maybe being around Jared was a bad fucking idea.

Maybe this was super unhealthy for Jensen. Maybe Jensen should fucking remind himself why he moved to a different state in the first place. No matter how damaged Jared was right now, no matter what he needed to get out of his system, Jared was going to return to a regular life eventually. A regular wife with a different wife and new kids. 

So where would that leave Jensen? 

Probably laying alone in bed, staring out into the dark, exactly like he had been doing for the past few hours. He was pretty sure he crossed some boundaries, his own _and_ Jared's. So this was the calm before the storm. Maybe. 

Jensen should have been sleeping easier now.

Sure, the previous week had been awful. The sudden absence of two constants in his life brought his state back to the old loneliness he was so familiar with in Texas. At least a sudden resurrection of his compulsive behavior, the running and the eating clean and the cleaning, had brought his body and house into a better shape than before. Plus, if he kept still for too long, like right fucking _now,_ he would have to think about how much of a goddamn idiot he is. 

Still, he didn't sleep well last week, but Jared was back. That should have been a comfort, but instead, he couldn't sleep at all.

At least this time the reason was different. At least this time he wasn't sleeping because he was elated, because his whole body was hot and his hands were sweating because Jared _stayed_ with _him_. Elated because he was a single man living with a single man that he adored.

Horrified because Jared didn't say anything about Thomas. Horrified because Jared's silence was worse than anything Jensen could ever imagine. A year ago Jared's voice was nails on chalkboard and now - now Jensen had his ears trained, trying to hear any semblance of life upstairs. 

Jensen's internal monologue started to explain it all. As it was always programmed to do.  

'Jensen Ackles, you're 37 years old and you've never cared about someone enough to want to help them through tough times. '

'Thats fucking stupid' Jensen replied to himself, furrowing his brow and tossing and turning in bed.

Jensen jolted up as soon as he heard somebody clearing their throat in his doorway.

"I... can you sleep?" Jared's voice was just above a whisper, sounded teary and Jensen's heart began to race.

"No, um. I can't."

"Can I... talk to you? For a bit?" Jared's silhouette wavered in the doorway, hands tracing the trim. His voice, his movements, were shy, tentative.

"Please." Jensen half-whispered. The dim light coming through the blinds from the streetlights, the fact that he couldn't see Jared or his sunflower eyes, made Jensen steady, confident. He patted the bed and Jared walked over. His weight dented the mattress and Jensen smiled to himself.

The two stayed silent, listening to Jared's strained breathing. He sniffled slightly, shoulders rising and falling unevenly, as if he couldn't breathe.

And then Jared leaned into Jensen, his head on his shoulder, and Jensen felt the wetness of tears.

"I miss Tom...so much." Jared croaked, voice heavy with a hint of breaking down, the tears silent for now. Jensen grit his teeth miserably. Jared was trying so damn hard to stay strong. Jensen lifted his hands, shaking, and started to stroke through Jared's hair, wordlessly.

They stayed that way for god knows how long, Jensen breathing evenly, feeling Jared's head lull up and down as he stroked his hair. Jared's body relaxed against him and his breathing got deeper and deeper until Jared was completely sagging on Jensen's bed.

Jensen exhaled and gently shifted Jared off his body onto the bed. He couldn't see him, not really, could only see his chest rise and fall, could see the shadow of his chin and lips - and, of god, what Jensen wouldn't give just to kiss him - but he didn't.

Jensen shifted quietly off the bed, covering Jared with his comforter and walked to the living room. Sadie was on the couch and Jensen could hear her tail hitting the fabric as he approached. He felt around until he found her, curled up in the corner, and laid down next to her, making sure not to kick her.

He stared at the ceiling, humming softly. Sadie's warm fur under his feet and the sheer comfort knowing that Jared was sleeping made Jensen sigh in relief, and soon enough, he was dozing as well.

* * *

Jared woke up in Jensen's bed, finally feeling rested. He glanced semi-hopefully at his side, but there was no imprint of a body next to him, nor were the sheets ruffled up. Jensen hadn't slept next to him the previous night. After a quick breakfast of cereal and milk, Jared sat himself firmly on the couch and made the call. 

Jeffrey Morgan sounded gruff and inquisitive over the phone.

"Jared! Haven't heard from you for a while. How have you been?"

"Good, man, good," Jared replied, slightly flustered at Jeffrey's personal tone. "I hope you're doing well. I, uh. Actually. Want to ask you for a favor."

"Mmm?" Jeffrey mumbled over the receiver.

"I'm thinking of finding a job. Here. Maybe at University Hospital. Gen. surg."

"Huh?" Jeffrey voice made a high pitched sound that almost make Jared giggle. Almost.

"You're..." Jeffrey cleared his throat and shared a slow, uncomfortable chuckle with Jared, "You're back in Denver."

"Of course. Didn't Jensen tell you?"

"Jensen hasn't been much of a talker lately..." Jeffrey grunted.

"So..." The silence dragged on between the two men, bordering on uncomfortable.

"But I got ya, kid. Send me over two references from Houston, I'll cover you Denver-side. I'll get in touch with Amanda Tapping. She's the general surgery attending at University. We'll work something out."

"Thank you so much!" Jared said, relief flooding his senses.

Jared glanced around the nearly empty house, mind reeling with ideas for decoration. For a new mattress in his bedroom. Maybe a proper dining table for him and Jensen. If he was going to be Jensen's roommate, he would pull his weight, too. They could even build a deck.  

Jared sat on Jensen's couch and stared blankly at the television, which wasn't turned on.

Plus, when he's working, he won't have all this damned free time to think. About Thomas. About Jensen's mistake.

About Jensen. 

Jared tried to put the thoughts out of his head but with the silence of the house, his unfamiliarity with the city, his fear, it couldn't stop replaying in his head.

Jensen made an honest mistake. One that probably wouldn't have made a difference either way. Jared's mistakes, however, did make a difference. Made all the difference. 

In the shower, he thought about Jensen. Jared tentatively brushed his soapy hand along his ass, mind drifting. He tentatively slipped his pinky into the crack and circled his hole, body heating up and tensing. The feeling was new, unfamiliar, and frankly brought up a kind of uncomfortableness in Jared that inexperience often does. The softly opened himself up, his dick responding quickly, images of Jensen floating in his mind. 

* * *

_Jared and Misha were sitting off in a silent corner. The two of them had been working a night shift, and the dimly lit cafeteria was almost empty. Jared mindlessly munched on his chicken fingers and fries, thinking whether a 3 am meal counts as a late dinner or an early breakfast. Misha wasn't eating much - he was instead twirling his fork around, gazing off into space._

_"You know," he starts, voice rising slightly, "Ackles is about to finish the fellowship."_

_"Mmm," Jared mumbled through his food, darting his eyes away. "The prodigal son."_

_"Yes." Misha nodded, somber. "The kid's a brilliant surgeon but he doesn't like it here. I mentored him, Jare. Three years of work put into this kid and he's gonna leave? I don't think so. There needs to be something," Misha's eyes dart to Jared, examine him slowly, his jaw and eyes and the curve of his face, "Someone - that will convince him to stay here."_

_Jared felt the heaviness in the air and immediately set down his fries, wiped his hands on his scrubs and took a gulp of water. He arched his eyebrows curiously, already feeling apprehension tighten his chest._

_"What did you have in mind?" Jared inquired, words drawn out. Misha grinned, teeth showing._

_"You're good with people, right?"_

_"What are you getting at?" Jared deadpanned._

_Misha's jaw tightened and he resumed twirling his fork in his fingers, gazing out the window._

_"Get him to take a job here. I don't care how."_

_Jared started shaking his head, but Misha raised a finger immediately, a devilish smirk across his face._

_"Guaranteed spot in the surgical oncology fellowship."_

_Jared continued to shake his head, though his brow lowered, his mind seemingly taking a detour._

_Misha leaned forward._

_"Shorter hours. You have a little kid, right? Thomas? Don't you want to see him more? Take him on vacations? Before he's a teenager?"_

_Jared played with his hands in front of him, no longer shaking his head but not nodding either, eyes tense._

_"I'll start you off with higher pay. Your wife isn't working now, is she? And you two want to have more children, don't you?"_

_Jared hunched his back and took a harsh inhale. The entire situation had a_ _bad vibe._

_"Isn't that unethical?" Jared finally bit out, an attempt at a protest._

_Misha shrugged, although his air or professionalism never slipped and it was Jared, instead, who felt silly for even asking such a question._

_"Of course. Happens all the time. Work more hours for me now. As soon as Ackles takes the job, my most promising fellow will get his benefits, too. "_

_Jared sighed loudly. Misha only grinned at him, twiddling his thumbs. Jared drifted back to Thomas and Genevieve, about how little he's been seeing of them, about how he never takes Sadie for walks anymore, and his heart ached._

_Jeff never told him he'd lose so much of his life to becoming a surgeon. Nobody ever really prepares you for that. And the extra money, the references, the part-time..._

_All he had to do is befriend a surly surgeon._

_Jared glanced back at Misha and pulled out his phone. He began his text message -_

_"Hey bro, I heard that you know Jensen Ackles. The surg onc fellow?"_

_He pressed send and Misha flashed him a huge thumbs up._

_"Remember!" Misha called over his shoulder as he got up, ready to exit the lunchroom. "Get that guy to work for me. You'll be in my good graces. Forever."_

_Jared smiled stiffly and waved Misha off. A sour taste lingered in his mouth, and Jared found he had lost his appetite._

* * *

Jared had just finished baking the chicken breasts and potatoes when Jensen got back from work. Jensen paused and inhaled deeply, casting a quick smile in Jared's direction. Jared smiled back.

"I may have a job opportunity, at University. For general surgery," Jared shared, placing the chicken breasts and potatoes neatly on Jensen's mismatched dinnerware.

"Wow," Jensen voiced from his bedroom, the sound of rusting clothes muffling him.

"Appendices and spleens and wound debridement? Dream job." Jensen continued, voice tinged with sarcasm. Jared smirked to himself.

"How did you manage that?" Jensen asked again, returning to the kitchen in sweat pants and a black t-shirt. Jensen grabbed two beers from the fridge and proceeded to open them.

"Actually, I called Jeff." Jared continued his work and didn't notice Jensen stop opening the beer bottles and stiffen. Jensen's voice came out much quieter.

"Huh. And what did Jeff say?"

Jared took the silverware out of the drawer and placed a fork and knife on each plate, then carried the plates to the coffee table in front of the couch. Jensen followed him.

"To get references. He's gonna set up a meeting with Amanda Tapping. He also didn't know I was back in Denver." Jared glanced through his hanging hair at Jensen, whose facial expression immediately took the smile off Jared's face.

"Yeah, guess that slipped my mind," Jensen answered. He wasn't looking at Jared.

"Is... everything okay between the two of you?" Jared kept his eyes trained on Jensen's face, his own stomach suddenly in knots, wanting an answer that he shouldn't want.

"Yeah." Jensen retorted, taking a sip of his beer. "We're great."

* * *

Jared found the courage to glance over to Jensen when House, M.D. came on. Jensen liked diagnosing the patients first and paid close attention to the screen. Most other times, Jensen caught Jared looking and always gave him a cute, insincere scowl.

How could a man be so unbelievably beautiful? His feathery, light hair, blonde in the light, long eyelashes, freckles that covered his nose and mouth, full lips , smooth warm skin. Taught and sharp jawline, a bit of stubble, young and glittering emerald eyes.

More beautiful than anybody Jared had even seen. Jensen Ackles, just by existing, was making Jared Padalecki go back on all the things he's ever believed. 

Yes. Jensen was more beautiful than anybody else he had ever met.

* * *

_Jared had been jittery all night. His hands fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt and Genevieve coo'ed him, rolling her eyes playfully and wrapping her fingers around his hands, making him let go of the buttons._

_"Why are you so nervous, sweetie?" she asked, looking up at her husband, whose brow was slightly shiny in their ambient bedroom lighting._

_Jared gulped and breathed in deeply, trying to no avail to stop the tremble of his hands._

_He had done a terrible, awful, shitty thing. And he had to tell Jensen. Tonight. Tell him that Misha put him up to being his friend, tell him not to take the damn job when Misha offered it, tell him that people didn't goddamn respect him as a person, outside his fame._

_And goddamn how he wished tonight wasn't the night that Genevieve insisted on coming to Lucky Bar, wanting to meet this new coworker that Jared had been spending so much time with._

_Genevieve clung on to him as they entered the bar, her body screaming 'mine' to the entire room, and he tried to relax into this posture, but instead felt like he couldn't breathe._

_It didn't help either that goddamn Misha and Jeff and Dani were all sitting at the bar too. Who the fuck invited them? Misha raised a glass in his direction as soon as he saw Jared, but the gesture seemed much more serious than a simple acknowledgement. 'Seal the deal' it seemed to be screaming._

_Jared's eyes searched the crowded, noisy bar, until they landed on short brown spikes spun gold in the light._

_Jensen was grabbing beers, smiling, his eyes crinkling and Jared's entire body melted into jello._

_"Baby," Genevieve whispered, half seductively but half patronizing, "Your hands are getting clammy." Jared grimaced and let go of Genevieve's hands, wiping them quickly on his jeans. She only laughed and wrapped herself back around Jared._

_Well. If this is how it was going to go._

_When Jared caught Jensen's eye, it was almost like stopping a clock. Jared saw Jensen stop moving, his eyes widen, felt his own mouth go dry as Jensen's eyes darted to Genevieve, happily glancing around._

_Why the hell did she have to come? Today?_

_Jared approached Jensen and quickly introduced him to Genevieve, trying not to linger too much, because his discomfort was growing by the second. Not made any better as Genevieve's slight nudge when he introduced the two of them. She made a tight 'o' with her lips as if she was going to whistle and Jared placed his hand around her shoulders and quickly led her away._

_"Woo, can't say how relieved I am!" Genevieve whispered to Jared, and he leaned in, trying to listen to her words over the blood pounding in his ears._

_"He's so damn pretty he'd make a straight boy gay," she joked, poking at his bicep._

_Jared's tight smile and curt nod went unnoticed by his wife._

_And after than, Jensen straight up disappeared. Jared found his eyes wandering the crowd, trying to find that gleam of gold, usually so easy to spot because of Jensen's height, now nowhere in sight. As if he was dodging him._

_When Jared finally caught sight of Jensen, Jensen was headed out the door, shoulders stooped low and eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. Jared's eyes widened and he whispered to Genevieve that he was going to the bathroom, leaving her with Jeff, and darted out the exit to catch Jensen._

_"What the hell, man?"_

_Jared's heart was racing, blood pumping, hands aching. Jensen's expression was trying so hard to stay neutral but Jared wasn't buying it, not for a minute, not when he could see his green eyes glossed over and the sclera tinted pink, not when his lips pouted out. Not when Jensen raised his chin defiantly, threateningly. Jared backed up a bit, hunched himself, tried to make himself look smaller._

_But Jensen was on the offensive and wasn't going to listen to anything Jared wanted to say. The word vomit that followed was shit after shit and Jared fucking knew it. Knew he should have just told Jensen the truth. About his deal with Misha. About how he couldn't follow through because_

_Jensen..._

_Jensen... was showing him now and he didn't waver, not for a second, because those shoves weren't as angry as they should have been, they were only meant to provoke Jared, not hurt him, and Jared knew that._

_Knew that and kept his eyes on Jensen, even as his blood began to boil. Even as Jeff intervened, even when he could feel his wife's icy stare boring in the back of him._

* * *

Jared hitched a ride with Jensen to work. Misha and Jeff and his previous attending had sent him recommendations, his CV was on file, and Amanda Tapping herself seemed impressed enough to request a meeting with him.

Jensen parked in the Children's Hospital parking lot and waved to Jared as he walked in to work, while Jared stumbled in the opposite direction, trying to follow Jensen's instructions of how to get to the university hospital.

Luckily, Jeffrey Dean Morgan was waiting outside the doors. His eyes brightened immediately at the sight of Jared and the older man came in for a hug, which Jared returned enthusiastically.

"Thank you so much for doing this, man," Jared huffed, somewhat flustered by Jeffrey's strong grip and musky cologne. Jeffrey quickly looked Jared up and down - Jared was wearing his slacks and white button up, two of the decent items he could salvage from his Houston home.

"Anything for a friend," Jeffrey replied, putting a hand on Jared's back and leading the younger man inside the hospital.

The interview went by in a whirlwind, Jeffrey kissing Amanda on the cheek, her scrutinizing Jared's CV while he sweated under the fluorescent lights of the conference room, Amanda shaking his hand, and suddenly Jared Padalecki had a full time job as a general surgeon at University Hospital.

Can't get much luckier than that.

After Amanda hurried off to another meeting, Jared turned to Jeffrey again, his entire body lifted by the experience.

"Thank you, so much. I can't even describe what this means to me," Jared started, waving his hands in front of himself. Jeffrey smiled warmly at the younger man, nodding politely.

"We should really have dinner sometime. You, me and Jensen. It's been a long while." Jared finally finished, and Jeffrey straightened up in his chair, eyebrows raised.

"That doesn't seem like a great idea." Jeffrey drawled slowly, and Jared's hairline lowered, sensing the tone of the conversation.

"Why? We have before." Jared tried to chirp enthusiastically.

"Well," Jeffrey shifted in his chair, glancing out the window behind him, "I'm a grown man but even I don't want to have dinner with my ex and the guy he dumped me for. Not this soon, anyway."

Jared's jaw dropped.

"What? What?"

Jeffrey's smirk immediately left his face and he leaned in closer to Jared, studying the man's shocked expression.

"You didn't know." Jeffrey stated rather than asked, and Jared clenched and unclenched his fists, hands suddenly very clammy.

"When... when did this happen?" Jared's mouth felt dry and his mind was a whirlwind. Jeffrey adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his silver beard.

"What, about three weeks now? When you ran off to Houston. You being back here... well, hell, if that ain't a kick in the groin."  
  
Jared started shaking his head and shut his mouth, placing both hands on Jeffrey's shoulders and looking him straight int he eyes. The gesture seemed to shock Jeffrey, who recoiled slightly at the touch.

"I had no idea. I had absolutely no idea. I would never. You know that, right?"

Jeffrey met Jared's eyes, all fire and determination, and relaxed.

"We both only want the best thing for Jensen, right? Send him my love." 

* * *

_Jensen was tipsy and spilling his heart and Jared felt the world crashing down around him, as if things finally made sense, as if the sky was finally clear._

_Because Jared felt the heat in Jensen's eyes sometimes, when they looked at each other, but all Jared could do was play coy because he didn't know what the fuck he was supposed to do._

_How could he? How was he supposed to explain that he found himself wanting to brag about Jensen, to tell the world about this smart and talented man? How could he explain the utter thrill of watching Jensen work on Amy, the kind of admiration that blossomed in his gut and flowed through his heart? How could he explain the giddiness he felt when Jensen Ackles replied to his email, or the butterflies in his stomach when he said something that could make that stoic man smile? How could he explain it in any other way than in the same words Jensen was pouring out to him in that moment, tinged with bitterness and disgust?_

_I'm gay._  

_Did he even have a right to be there? Did he, when all he did was push down how he felt with frequent references to his wife, his son? When his wedding band suddenly felt so heavy he couldn't use his hands?_

_And Jensen, in his empty bachelor bad apartment, with the high ceilings and angular furniture, pouring his heart out, thinking that he was flawed for loving men, when his only flaw was letting anyone convince him he was worthless._

_The move was dumb, impulsive. Jared's entire body flared the second he saw the boy come out of Jensen's shower, knew the sour taste of anger mixed with jealousy in his throat. He was not a violent man but the impulse to grab the arrogant kid by his shirt and tell him to never ever ever ever touch Jensen again was so strong that Jared vibrated with it._

_He went home the previous night and kissed his son on the forehead, climbed into bed with his wife, who started kissing his shoulder-blades, hands rubbing his arms and flanks. Jared stayed still, quiet, pretending to sleep._

_And that morning, hands trembling against Jensen's jaw, lips skirting his, gently, Jared's heart pounding so loudly that he couldn't even hear anything else, every nerve in his body suddenly alive. It was like waking up for the first time. It was like walking through fog forever and finally entering a clearing. He could see, could feel the sun on his skin, felt like he found the meaning of life in those lips._

_Felt like he had found a home and he had been lost for so, so long._

* * *

Jared spent the rest of the day filling out paperwork, getting his locker, and registering into the university system. He was introduced to the rest of the general surgery team, including the residents, and scrubbed in on a few surgeries. It was all to help him feel comfortable in the new environment, to know the layout of the rooms, the equipment, the assisting staff. 

Jared's hands shook slightly as he lifted the scalpel and he gulped, pushing Tom, pushing the slow burn of his son to the back of his mind, so he could work.

He grinned and shook hands but his mind might as well have gone through a hurricane. He shouldn't be so angry at Jensen, shouldn't at all, because Jensen was giving him a home, being his friend, even after the horrible things Jared did. Jared didn't deserve any this. Didn't deserve to listen to Jensen's morning routine, didn't deserve to share a couch with him, eating dinner, touching knees, pretending not to notice the contact.

Jensen and Jared drove home together, Jared silent in the passenger seat, Jensen casting him concerned looks.

Jared fidgeted to get inside the house and Jensen fumbled with the keys.

Jared bolted upstairs immediately. Jensen only moved slowly, looking at the back of Jared's head, perplexed. Jensen only shrugged.

It must have been difficult for Jared on his first day back at work. Anything with hospitals and surgeries probably brought back bad memories. Jensen sighed sadly, itching to run after Jared, but decided to give the man some space.

He glanced inside the refrigerator, not sure if he and Jared had anything to eat.

Seeing it was empty, Jensen made a quick call to a Chinese takeout place, ordered their usuals, and left.

* * *

_It wasn't the kiss, or holding hands with Jensen in the backseat of the car that made Jared feel dirty._

_Those things weren't inherently selfish. Jared felt Jensen's pulse against his, knew the hesitation, knew the relief and the want. Knew without words than Jensen wanted this too. Jared could pretend, in those intimate moments, that the world only consisted of the two of them. And if both of them wanted something, well, then it was okay._

_But when he whispered into Jensen's ear to take the job that Misha offered him, he never felt so disgusted with himself. He had fallen into Misha's plan in the end. He asked Jensen to stay because, with this whole fucked up situation, at least Jensen could be close. Just for a few more years. Maybe for longer._

_And that? That was pretty damn selfish._

* * *

When Jensen returned, carrying the paper bag containing their dinner, Jared was sitting stiffly on Jensen's couch. Jensen stopped for a second, deja vu springing him back to the first day Jared showed up to his home, grief stricken, eyes empty.

"Jared," Jensen called out softly, and Jared's eyes drifted to Jensen.

"I got the job," Jared stated, voice flat.

"Thats great!" Jensen attempted to sound enthused, though Jared's coldness was throwing him off.

"Talked to Jeffrey Morgan today, too," Jared continued.

"Hmm." Jensen grunted, setting the food down on the coffee table. He didn't approach the couch, and Jared didn't move.

Jared looked accusingly at Jensen, and Jensen's temperature soared.

"You broke up." Jared stated. Jared stood up and took a step towards Jensen. The scene felt so familiar to Jensen, Jared's big body crowding him in his own home, accusing and angry when really it should be JENSEN thats angry.

Damn right. And he sure as hell wasn't going to let Jared walk all over him this time.

"You lied to me." Jared continued, voice raising slightly, though his expression looked more hurt than anything else. Jensen chose to ignore that and raised his own voice, his bottled up feelings spilling.

"I lied to YOU? You want to talk about lying, Jared?"

Jared flinched but Jensen wasn't going to let the opportunity pass, taking a step forward and puffing up his chest, raising his chin, keeping the eye contact.

"You're so fucking good at lying, Jared, huh?" Jensen spit. "Good at lying to your wife, to your own damn self, to ME?"

"Jensen..." Jared's voice was quieter, eyes pleading.

"Wanna know why I didn't tell you? So you wouldn't fuck with me again, Jared. I thought..." and Jensen fought to keep his voice from breaking, "You made me think that... "

"Jensen." Jared repeated, and Jensen's hands flew out, pushing Jared away, but Jared was faster. One hand grabbed both of Jensen's wrists - which, what the fuck, how big are Jared's hands? - and placed the other hand on his chest gently.

"Your comforting? Your helping? It's goddamn ruined my life!" Jensen felt like he was losing control, tried to wrangle his hands free, but Jared was leading him slowly against the wall, heat and anger exchanged between them.

"I wish I'd never met you!" Jensen almost yelled and Jared faltered noticeably, but nudged Jensen against the wall. Jensen wriggled, half-trying to get free half anticipating... anticipating something.

"This was all a fucking game to you. And you used me." Jensen growled, and Jared only shook his head, body pressed against Jensen's.

"No." Jared breathed.

"No. You were never a game to me. Please. Jensen." And Jared's voice was pleading, and Jensen glanced to his lips, wobbling softly, to Jared's eyes, glassy and devastated.

"Fuck off." Jensen's last defense, and he broke eye contact with Jared, glanced away, waiting Jared to retreat, to be hurt, to leave, because his entire body was screaming, crying, wanting to kiss Jared and break every goddamn wall between them.

"Jensen." Jared leaned in, hair brushing Jensen's cheeks and Jensen forced himself to keep his face away, teeth clenched.

"Jensen." whispered Jared. Shivers ascended Jensen's spine and he bit his lip as hard as he could. Jensen held his breath. 

"I love you."


	10. Chapter 10

"What?" Jensen barely mouthed out. The fight left his tight face and his boy relaxed against Jared's titanic hands pushing him against the wall.   
  
Jared took a shaky breath and kept his eyes focused on Jensen's face. This was the moment. Every other interaction, for such a long time, had been misconstrued, and this time Jared couldn't afford it. He kept his eyes trained on Jensen's, even when his hands started to shake against Jensen's chest.   
  
Even though every single impulse in his body told him to back track, take it back, and run. 

"Jense. I. I..." Jared's tongue felt too big and heavy for his mouth. How he had gotten those words out of his big dumb mouth he had no idea, but now those same words were so heavy between the two men and Jared searched for something to add.   
  
Thankfully, Jensen spoke first.   
  
"You're. I'm. Jared. You're _straight_." Jensen's eyes searched Jared's face, lingering for a second on his lips, his eyes. Like he was trying to remember him.   
  
"I..." Jared cleared his throat. "May not. Uh. Be quite as straight as I might have pretended. Jense..."   
  
Jensen turned his head away from Jared again, scrunching his face. He looked annoyed, impatient. Jared scrambled to speak again.  
  
"I didn't know - didn't realize. Until you. And. I don't know, man. It got me all fucked up. I didn't get it. And then. Uh. Jeffrey. Jeffrey Morgan. Remember that time? You were paged? He talked about how. He. He was married to women, and..."  
  
"Get on with it." Jensen bit out, and Jared's eyes widened. Jensen had never been this irritated with him and his body vibrated. There had to be a way. To say it better. To say it faster. To say it all before Jensen had enough.  
  
"Bisexual. You know. Probably. I never felt it and then... Jensen. Misha, he wanted you to work for him and he offered me all these benefits and I. Jense... I didn't know. I just thought I'd befriend you and you'd stay in Houston and things weren't supposed to get this fucked up. This. But Jensen. I didn't want to - lie to you. But. I was so fucked up, man. I was..."   
  
Jensen's eyes flashed and he glared at Jared. "Misha?" The name sounded like acid on Jensen's tongue, almost making Jared back down, but he let Jensen continue, let him feel the rage that he rightfully deserved to feel.   
  
Jensen bit down on his tongue. His mind flashed to Misha offering him work, how Misha mentioned Jared as his student by name, his raised eyebrows at Lucky Bar, Misha disregarding Jared's wife. God _damn it_. He had the whole damn thing planned.   
  
"He knew." Jensen whispered bitterly. Misha _fucking_ Collins was always right.

"He knew and. He handpicked you. Because I was gay." Jensen almost laughed. "That's so fucked up, man. Look where we are. That idiot hand-PICKED you..."  
  
"Hey, no." Jared's voice was soft, sincere. "He had known me for years, you were friends with my brother. He controlled the situation, yeah, but he didn't hand pick me. Hell. He probably. Thought it was better. For it to be me. I was married. I had..." Jared paused. "A family. Nobody knew. That this would happen."   
  
Jensen shook his head slowly, body inching away from Jared's hands, which were still on Jensen's chest.  He gravitated from the wall, his back straight and stiff, his jaw clenched.   
  
"Look where you are, man. Look what your life became. Look what MY life became. All of this. Because Misha wanted me to - work for him? He couldn't fucking ask?"   
  
"Jensen." Jared retracted his hands. If Jared Padalecki knew anything, it was how to read a situation. And Jensen Ackles didn't want to be touched.   
  
Jensen sighed loudly and stepped forward, pushing Jared aside with his shoulder. Jared swayed out of the way.   
  
"You have work tomorrow." Jensen mumbled, hand waving behind him. Jensen's head was bent down as he walked straight into his bedroom.   
  
Jared stood still for a minute, listening to the house settle around him. Jensen was so quiet, probably had gone to bed. Jared rewound the way he thought things were going to go. Thought about Jensen's eyes lighting up, about Jensen saying 'I love you too!' them kissing, finally, freely for the first time. He should have been laying in that bed next to Jensen right now. He should have - fuck.   
  
Jared breathed in deeply and glanced to the clock on the microwave. He had work the next morning and life wasn't going to stop. He'd wait for Jensen to speak to him. And if he miscalculated, he'd start looking for an apartment tomorrow. He trudged upstairs, heart heavy.

* * *

  
  
How many times had Jared listened passively to Jensen getting ready in the morning? How many times had the whirring of the coffee machine comforted him, how many times had the sound of the shower lulled him back to sleep? How many times had he forced himself to stay awake so he could hear which song Jensen would hum that morning?   
  
Jared stood in the shower, ducking down to get his hair wet, letting his skin prickle in the hot water. This shower, like most other showers, was too small for him and the water hit his torso, trickling, leaving his shoulders and neck chilly. He scrubbed at his face with his hands. The vent in this bathroom probably didn't end up in Jensen's room. Jensen probably wasn't awake, listening to him showering like some creep.   
  
But. Just in care Jensen WAS a creep.   
  
Jared tried to remember the tune to the song Jensen sang the night he had dinner with Jensen and Jeffrey - an Elliott Smith song, which Jensen drawled slower than the original. Jared started humming it, quietly, trying to find the voice to sing the word that sent him ablaze when he heard them for the first time. Maybe the words would tell Jensen - _I didn't change my mind, this isn't new, from the very beginning, I love you_ \- a way to say it without saying it. Or - Jensen would probably still be asleep. He wasn't much of a morning person.   
  
He didn't have a key to the house so he pressed the automatic lock and stared at it for a second. If Jensen felt like it, he could keep him locked out indefinitely.

He'd probably be a better dad to Sadie anyway.   
  
Jared sighed and cast a glance to Jensen's door, which was just as shut as it was last night, the house dead quiet.   
  
"Have a nice day," Jared spoke, as if Jensen had been standing in his own doorway, waving him off to work. Jared opened the door and left.   
  


* * *

  
  
Jared splashed water on his face in the locker room. Outfitted in green scrubs, surgical cap over his long hair, dark circles under his eyes, he had never felt older. He stared at his hands, at the golden wedding band he had forgotten that he still wore. He reached for paper towels, wiping his face off. He pulled the ring off his finger and examined it carefully. Plain. Gold. It was just a thing. Jared tucked the ring into his shirt pocket and exited the room.  
  
From there, it was a whirlwind of unfamiliar faces and the vague feeling of nausea. The gloves against his skin, the fluorescent lights, talking loud and checklists and scalpels and Jared had to take a minute, breathing deeply, eyes closed. If only Thomas's face didn't flash before his eyes every time he picked up a surgical tool.   
  
It wasn't awful. It wasn't. He smiled a lot, the attendings and students and nurses all smiled at him sweetly, sweeter than he remembered. But at the end of the day, his whole body was drained. He could barely pull his clothes back on in the locker room that evening, hands shaking. Jared took his time, his mind on his 'home,' about Jensen telling him to leave, his mind on Jensen. 

* * *

  
  
Jared reached for the door tentatively. He was probably over-thinking it, like he over-thought damn near everything, and if this door was locked it didn't mean that Jensen hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.   
  
Right?   
  
Jared furrowed his brow and breathed, twisting the knob. The door popped open easily, unlocked, and Jared sighed in relief if only to himself. The kitchen lights were on and hissing was audible from the backyard. Jared walked to the open doors. Jensen was standing in front of the grill and Sadie was laying faithfully at his feet, her tail hitting the deck repeatedly with an embarrassed joy.   
  
Jared knelt down as scratched Sadie behind the ear, keeping his eyes trained on Jensen, who hadn't done a thing to suggest he knew Jared was there.  
  
"Can you bring me two plates?" Jensen called behind him and Jared practically jumped upright, Sadie bolting into standing position right after him.  
  
"Yessir!" Jared announced and marched to the kitchen, grabbing two plates, them sliding in his hands. Jared approached Jensen again and handed him the plates, glancing over the older man's shoulders. Jensen was grilling juicy burgers, the buns browning on the top rack, bell peppers roasting on the side grill. Jared raised his eyebrows and grinned, momentarily forgetting about the previous night as his stomach growled in anticipation.   
  
Jensen assembled their burgers, buns and meat and grilled bell peppers and avocado, handing the plate silently to Jared and turning off their grill. He walked back inside and Jared and Sadie followed him inside dutifully, closing the screen door so no bugs got inside.  
  
Jensen sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, eyes averted from Jared, and Jared followed suit.   
  
Well. Pretending it never happened may have been better than being kicked out. Maybe.   
  
But all through the episode of Myth Busters, the one where they tried to explode a Port-o-potty by pumping methane gas into the stall, Jared glanced nervously at Jensen.

The burger was delicious, though. And Jensen looked well rested and smelled sweet, like coconuts. So. It wasn't all bad.   
  
 When the episode finished, Jensen grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and took both his and Jared's empty plate to the sink. He washed them quickly in silence, never looking in Jared's direction. When he was done, he walked quickly into his room, leaving Jared on the couch.   
  
Jared waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for but there had to be something.   
Right?  
  
So when Jensen walked out of his room again, eyes averted and ears red, Jared high five'd his intuition and stood straight up.  
  
"Flowers?" Jared asked, a wide smirk already formed on his face. Jensen was holding a large bouquet of summertime flowers, sunflowers and daisies and dahlias, with leaves so warm and green and speckled slightly brown with age that Jared could only think of Jensen's eyes. He felt himself get chocked up and his eyes get misty, despite his quip seconds earlier.   
  
Jensen was mumbling now, barely audible, his freckles bright against his blushing face, and Jared leaned forward to hear the man speak.   
  
"These have a reason, Sasquatch." Jensen cleared his throat and sniffled slightly. Jared considered for a second that maybe Jensen was allergic to pollen and pulled his hands out for the bouquet. Jensen handed it to him absently, with no fanfare.  
  
"Do you remember," Jensen started asking, although it sounded awfully rhetorical, "Maybe the third email you sent me? You talked about people being like plants. Needing water and sun and all that. About how you're so tall," Jared giggled briefly. He did remember his rambling in that email. Hell. Jensen hadn't answered the previous two so it had been time to get creative.   
  
"You joked," Jensen continued, "That you and I were. Uh. The same person. From alternate dimensions. And all that. And I liked that. A lot. I don't know. Because whenever I think of cancer I think of flowers. And for that brief second, you made me believe in that crazy idea of yours."   
  
Jared tilted his head and breathed in deeply, trying to get enveloped in the aroma of the flowers.   
  
"So." Jensen ran his hands through his hair and finally looked at Jared. Jensen's eyes looked apprehensive so Jared took another step forward and tried to put on the happiest look he had.   
  
"This is. Like. A symbol. That you made me believe in one of your crazy ideas again."  
  
Jared breathed in deep, trying to suppress his smile, but his heart knew what was about to happen and it started to race, every muscle in his body wanting to contract. He wanted to jump for joy, to tackle Jensen.   
  
Jensen sighed again and shook his head, though a slight smile was now gracing his face.   
  
"Look man. Maybe we didn't meet for great reasons. Maybe this whole thing," Jensen pointed to Jared and back to himself, "Is all kinds of fucked up. But I'm. I feel good, man. For the first time. Real good. About you. About this life. This is. What I want."  
  
Jared could barely get the words out, his face cracking from his smile.  
  
"You feel good? Does that mean..."  
  
Jensen rolled his eyes.  
  
"Man. I was gone for you from the beginning."  
  
"I don't know what that means." Jared quipped, on his toes and half-way to starting to dance.    
  
Jensen rolled his eyes once more, but his mouth was wide in a smile and Jared was grinning, his cheeks hurting, his heart racing.   
  
"I love you too, you big doofus." 

  
  
Jared gingerly set the bouquet down on the couch and launched himself at Jensen, whose laugh infected his very mind and Jared started planting sloppy kisses all over Jensen's face. On his cheeks, on eyelids, on his nose and forehead until Jensen grabbed Jared's face with both hands and planted a deep kiss on his lips and - _oh_.   
  
Jensen was freshly shaved and he was smiling against Jared's mouth, the taste of beer on his lips and Jared could barely kiss him back he was so happy.   
  
Jensen was slowly leading the two of them backwards, hands all over Jared's body, under his shirt and caressing his back, gripping at skin, his kisses becoming more anxious, more aggressive. Jensen bit Jared's lips with his teeth, his tongue in his mouth, tasting him, really _really_ tasting him for the first damn time, and Jared's nose was smooshed against his face, breathing hard, and he was still smiling.   
  
Jared was big - like, really big. Like much bigger than Jeffrey, his height, his rippling muscles, that monster bulging through his jeans, Jensen knew he was screwing around with youth, someone in his complete prime and his skin prickled with embarrassment. Jared was all muscle and unadulterated beauty and Jensen's grown a soft belly since he'd moved to Colorado but Jared didn't seem to mind, lost inside Jensen's mouth, hands trailing up and down his body.   
  
So Jensen grabbed the younger man's hair in this hands, deepens the kiss, pulls experimentally and Jared just whines, so defenseless, so it was on. Jared groans and Jensen takes the opportunity to switch from the man's mouth to nibble on his neck, suck on a spot right below his ear and Jared practically hisses, bucking against Jensen and speeding up their slow crawl to Jensen's bedroom.   
  
Its dark and they are stumbling and Sadie is following them, whining at the two men grabbing ass very slowly down the hallway and its not at all like Jared imagined, with the low lights and the gentleness, but it seemed like it was better this way and he laughed half way and gasped again as Jensen tugged him down and bit his earlobe, finally _finally_ the back of Jared's knees hitting Jensen's bed and Jensen pushes him, softly and Jared gleefully falls backward, Jensen right on top of him.   
  
Jared shuddered, suddenly aware of Jensen hard against his thigh, panting against his skin. Jensen breaks his mouth away from Jared's neck, eyes glazed over, and sits Jared upright so he could pull the younger man's t-shirt over his head. Jared watched Jensen, eyes lidded heavily, his own hands trailing up the mans flanks, pulling Jensen's shirt over his head and admiring the flushed skin, the freckles of Jensen's shoulder that he could barely see, how rosy and glossy his lips looked in that moment.  
  
"Stop being such a sap." Jensen grunted again before slamming his mouth back to Jared's, knocking him back onto the bed, hands fumbling with Jared's zipper. Jared gasped into Jensen's mouth the second Jensen's fingers brushed the fabric covering his cock.   
  
_God._ He's been so hungry for Jensen's touch, ever since he lost his damn control and ended up grinding into this same beautiful man on his couch in the living room...   
  
Jared's jeans all but sprang open and Jensen impatiently pushed them down, his whole body migrating south. Sweet patches of wetness, soft lips on his stomach, and Jensen was sucking a hickey into his hips, _that teasing asshole_ , and Jared wanted to swear, his body hot and starting to sweat and his hands only grasping at Jensen's hair.   
  
Jensen pulled Jared's pants down. His mouth ghosted over Jared's boxers, right over where he was standing at full attention and Jared was about to fucking lose it if he couldn't touch Jensen.   
  
"I've wanted to do this for so damn long, Jay," Jensen said, voice heavy with lust and suddenly cold air was hitting Jared's cock, and then it was - _oh_ \- Jensen's soft lips pressing tiny kisses on it, tongue darting out to lick the tip and Jared arched back into the bed, groaning - god, how many times had he imagined this exact moment? - and he tried to sit up, so he could watch but Jensen's hands were pushing him back down and Jared, well, he wanted to be a good boy.  
  
The warmth of Jensen's mouth was almost too much to take and Jared dug his fingernails into Jensen's shoulders, biting his own lips, focusing on the sensation as Jensen's tongue pressed against the hardness, licking up with each head bob. He sucked like a goddamn pro, swirling his tongue, his hand at the base, slicking him _up and down and up and down_ and that wonderful man even had the audacity to make satisfied little sounds, humming against his dick. Jared was starting to fucking have a spiritual experience, losing sight of time and space when Jensen was suddenly on his mouth again and damn - thats what Jared tasted like, the sweat and salt of it all and if it didn't make him even harder...  
  
Jared reached for Jensen's sweats, the undressing much easier than on his part, as they slid right off. Jared pulled off his boxers too, hands reaching for Jensen's cock, pulse everywhere and Jensen closes his eyes, looking like a goddamn erotic god, when Jared barely touches him. Jensen smirked at Jared and reached past the younger man, into his drawer, and Jared's heart was about to burst with excitement and a little bit with fear. He had never done this before and Jeffrey did warn him...  
  
Jensen was suddenly back at his cock, licking broad lines along his shaft and suddenly his tongue was - holy shit. This. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, Jensen flicking his tongue against his hole, the warmth and wetness comforting him, loosening him. Jared heard something open and suddenly the wetness became much slicker and colder and Jensen was rubbing his fingers over the hole, Jared basically vibrating with the touch. Jensen leaned forward, nipping at Jared's nipples, taking his attention away from his ass, and Jared was grabbing at Jensen's dick,  so hard it felt painful and Jensen gasped, ever so slightly against Jared's chest, and laughed, sticking his pinky finger gently into Jared's hole. Jared gasped and Jensen glanced at him, but Jared only ndoded reassuringly. He'll tell Jensen that he had practiced a tad in the shower a little bit later.   
  
"Can I..." Jared asked, voice getting ragged because Jensen just stuck a second finger inside and Jared was starting to feel too hot and too desperate, biting at Jensen's neck and hands gripping his tight little ass. Jensen only laughed and shook his head, his fingers speeding up inside of Jared.   
  
"Next time," he moaned as Jared stroked his cock. Jensen pulled away, and rustled for a second before Jared reached for him again, only to feel the latex of the condom. His heart began to race and he was starting to feel himself sweat. He wanted to fucking beg but it was terrifying to fit that whole damn thing inside of him.   
  
"You sure?" Jensen asked, voice ragged, almost impatient and Jared could only nod enthusiastically. Jensen groaned as he lubed himself up. Jensen was so hard he felt like he was going to burst any second, wanted so badly to take control of Jared, to show him who the fuck he belonged to, but he had to look at his face. The desire was painted bright and clear, sweat shinning his forehead and pooling in his collarbone and Jensen pecked Jared on the lips again, softly, lovingly, Jared's eyelids fluttering open and a soft smile spreading on his face.  
  
Jensen grabbed his throbbing dick and directed it to Jared's ass, head pushing tentatively against Jared's hole, Jared's breathing getting harder and harder with each movement.   
  
"Please. Jensen - _Christ_ \- please." Jared moaned, grabbing Jensen's shoulders, and Jensen slid in carefully, inch by inch. Jared was panting, muscles of his chest and stomach taught, and Jensen kissed his abdomen, licked his lips, massaged his ass until Jared gave and Jensen pushed in farther until he was all the way in, and Jared's dick was bobbing up and down against his stomach, dripping precome and Jensen licked the saltiness, suddenly empowered. He moved in and out, gently at first, until he saw the fire in Jared's eyes and grabbed his calves, pushing in quickly.    
  
It was like they always belonged there. Jared cursed under his breath, the pain giving to pleasure as he relaxed, as his nails dug into Jensen's back, _god fucking damn_ , why had he never done this before? And Jensen was so damn beautiful, focused, light skin almost ethereal with the lack of light, face contorted in concentration, in pleasure, and he kept going deeper, faster, and Jared felt electricity travel up his back, warmness spread to his chest, whatever the fuck he did earlier in his life was NOT sex -   
  
Jensen loses his concentration and Jared just sees Jensen watching him, rocking back and forth like in a trance, watching Jared arch and moan and mouth his name, eyes on each other like they've known each other all their fucking lives and if Jensen didn't get a fucking move on Jared was going to lose his mind -   
  
Jensen is close, Jared can hear it in his shallow breaths and thrusts, in the slowness and Jared moans so hard, biting his lip until he can taste the copper of his blood because its fucking torture, his cock actually hurts and his entire body is floating in a hot pool, strained to the very end and Jared clenches around him and pulls Jensen's hair and Jensen loses it, right then and there, his cock pulsing so violently that Jared could fucking feel it, feel it vibrating to his spine. Jensen is almost still, riding out his orgasm inch by inch inside Jared and Jared is so loose and desperate that he is almost physically afraid of Jensen pulling out but Jensen does it anyway -  
  
Brow slicked and eyes dark, Jensen slides out with a pop and his mouth is licking all along Jared's cock, saltier and throbbing and it takes mere second for Jared to explore inside of Jensen's mouth, those waves and waves of built up pressure devastating him like an earthquake. And Jensen took all of it, like a good boy, swallowing him down which made the situation just too much, too erotic and perfect and every goddamn thing Jared had ever wished for.   
  
Jensen came back from the bathroom cleaned up and half-heatedly covered himself and Jared with the covers. Jared grinned, breathing out deeply.  
  
"Damn." he mouthed against Jensen's neck, wanting to feel the older mans warm pulse close to him. Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared, sighed sweetly. Jared had never felt like this - so defenseless and exposed, so far gone, so wanting to be taken care of, as he did in the bed of this unbelievable man. Jensen stroked Jared's hair and Jared listened to Jensen's heart.   
  
"Flowers?" Jared asked, raising his head to look at Jensen in the dark, teeth flashing white.   
  
Jensen smiled gleefully.  
  
"Hey, my only other idea was throwing shirts at you from upstairs. This was better." 

* * *

  
  
If Jared kept smoothing his hair back with his hands, he'd look like a Greaser by the time the hour was over, but he couldn't help himself. The fold-out metal chairs weren't built for a 6'5" guy, and his knees were bent awkwardly in front of him. Jared used himself as a table to balance a cookie, which he occasionally nibbled on when he didn't know what to do with his hands.  
  
Which is probably why he'd gone through five cookies already.   
  
The circle of chairs slowly filled around him, some of the other chatting amiable between one another, others sitting shyly and quietly by themselves.  
  
By the time Dr. Ombudsman joined, the entire circle was full and the room was almost uncomfortable quiet.  
  
"Good afternoon, everybody." Dr. Ombudsman said, voice low and authoritative. Jared liked him right away. Besides, the older man had a beautiful beart and hair longer and curlier than his own. Tough look to pull off, though looking like an MD/Wizard didn't really pull off something bad.   
  
Especially because the man worked in pediatrics.   
  
"Today, we have a new guest joining us." Dr. Omundson shifted his entire body to point to Jared, who started wiping his hands on his scrubs in front of him, suddenly bashful.  
  
"Why don't you take a moment and introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about why you're here."   
  
Jared glanced nervously to Jensen, who was sitting directly next to him. Jensen only smiled slightly and nodded reassuringly, taking Jared's hand in his. Jensen squeezed Jared's hand and Jared suddenly found his bravery. Jensen was a goddamn saint for coming with him on his day off.   
  
"Hey. Uh. Everyone," Jared waved awkwardly to the circle, who smiled politely back at him. "I'm Jared Padalecki. I work at University Hospital. My son. Uh. Thomas. Was four when he passed away. Wilms tumor." Jared gulped in air, eyes focused on Dr. Omundson, who nodded solemnly, face imploring him to continue.  
  
"I lived in - uh. Houston. When it happened. And after. I just. I don't know. Everywhere I went, there he was. I couldn't sleep in my house because I could constantly hear him, tapping away on the floors. Every time I looked at my family, my friends, all I saw was pity. Like. Losing Tom was all I was to them. And. I." Jared looked up, blinking a few times. His eyes were misting and he almost felt embarrassed. Of course - in a support group for parents who lost their kids to cancer, he knew that that was probably silly. He glanced around to see a few of the parents glancing down and nodding sadly. Some of them didn't have anyone with them.  
  
"My wife divorced me. I couldn't do my work anymore - I was training in surgical oncology but every time I looked at a scan, all I saw was Thomas and his kidneys and that scan when I knew his tumor had metastasized. So. I ran away. I ran here."   
  
Jared turned his gaze to Jensen, placing his second hand on top of Jensen's, now speaking as if directly to the man.  
  
"But its time to stop running. And continue living. After Tom, I never thought I'd be happy again. But now..."  
  
Jensen's eyes crinkled and Jared's life flashed before his eyes. The normality, the horror, everything they would have to sort out with their families... But the future looked so bright, too. Sadie wagging her tail, meals at home sitting next to Jensen on his couch, wine on the porch, traveling together, living a life together. Jared closed his eyes.  
  
"Now. I have hope." 

* * *

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I have one more chapter - an epilogue - planned. Thank you so much for sticking this out with me! This was the first fanfic that I've ever done, so please excuse all the awfulness and spelling mistakes. I had a blast writing this and will hopefully write more in the future! Thank you so much for all the feedback and comments - I appreciate it all so much! Y'all are wonderful!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

"This is insane." Jared stated, crossing his arms. Jensen smirked and turned the envelope over in his hands. Thick, eggshell colored paper. Golden lettering.   
  
The rest of their mail lay fanned across the coffee table, Sadie panting at their bare feet, still in her red harness.   
  
Jensen leaned down to scratch Sadie behind the ears, not wanting to shrug off Jared's concern.   
  
Well, if he had anything to say about Gen, it was that she didn't fuck around.   
  
Jensen used his car keys to open the envelope, slashing through the expensive paper somewhat inelegantly. He picked the same eggshell colored contents out of the envelope and tossed it back on the table.   
  
Jared crinkled his nose and rolled his eyes, averting his gaze in feigned disinterest. But Jared was awfully quiet, barely moving, as if listening intently would help him know what the letter said. Which Jensen took as a queue to read aloud.   
  
"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Genevieve Cortese and Ryan Sypek. Blah blah blah. Winter wedding in Idaho. Look, they sent engagement pictures!"   
  
Jensen held out the wallet sized print to Jared, who picked it up reluctantly, as if it was a used tissue.   
  
His ex-wife and her fiance were playing in the snow, sporting exuberant smiles.   
  
"This is insane, right? Am I losing my mind? My ex wife just sent wedding invitations... to your house. For me."   
  
Jensen tilted his head and reached for the envelope among his mail. Yep. Just as he thought.  
  
To: Mr. Jensen Ackles & Mr. Jared Padalecki.   
  
Jensen almost laughed. In the two years that Jared had moved in for good, he had barely mentioned Genevieve, though Jensen inferred that she was a fairly traditional woman. Traditional in her big wedding, traditional in sending out invitations with gold letters, traditional with the ridiculous engagement photos. Jensen had no issues believing that Gen wouldn't be okay with where Jared's life had gone. He didn't go the route that everyone expected of him. Hell, Jared probably didn't go the route he expected of himself.  
  
Eventually the questions from Jared's parents about whether he was dating, when he was going to come home, when he was going to move on, stopped. From Jared's posture, his hands clenched and jaw tight, eyes avoidant of the pile of mail as if its disastrous mess was Medusa in disguise, Jensen could infer a lot.   
  
If he hadn't known Jared so well, he'd probably be jealous.   
But its not every day your very nice, white-picket-fence-heterosexual-father/husband/son life comes through the front door and punches you in the face.   
  
So Jared had done therapy. Lots of therapy. More therapy than any boy from Texas, no matter how progressive, was probably willing to admit. Therapy about Thomas, therapy about his sexuality, therapy about family, and especially therapy about his divorce.   
  
Jensen sighed. What they never told either one of them in medical school was, lots of things can be learned theoretically. But nothing sticks until you actually do it.   
  
"We should go." Jensen stated. He left his expression carefully neutral and he leaned over to Sadie, unleashing her from her harness so she could bounce around the house.   
  
"Its been a long time," Jensen continued slowly. Gingerly.

"You're happy. She's happy. It would probably mean a lot to her if...if her first husband gave his blessing."   
  
Jared huffed. His expression, vaguely reminiscent of smelling eggs that had rolled under the couch for a year after Easter, said exactly how he felt about the suggestion. But his body was already showing signs of defeat, as he rubbed his hands together and slackened his shoulders.   
  
"Idaho? Winter?" Jared groaned and Jensen snickered.  
  
"February. At least the plane tickers will be cheap," Jensen quipped, taking his phone out of his pocket and beginning to look for flights. 

 

* * *

  
  
"This is insane." Jared repeated as Jensen maneuvered his hands around Jared's throat, trying to tie his tie while the younger man fidgeted.   
  
"This is normal." Jensen assured, pecking Jared quickly on the lips before walking to the bathroom mirror to put on his own tie.   
  
"Think she'll be shocked that I'm here with you?" Jared asked innocently, bouncing from the door to watch Jensen and himself in the hotel mirror. The lighting was fantastic and Jared smoothed back his hair with his hands. Jensen's expression didn't change.  
  
"She'll probably just be mad that your date is better looking than her groom." Jensen said playfully and Jared finally loosened his face and grinned.   
  
"If I had brought you AND Jeffrey, that would have blown her mind."   
  
"Hey. Keep him out of it." Jensen objected. "Besides, who would take care of Sadie if he was here too? Showing up your ex-wife isn't as important as good childcare."   
  
Jared and Jensen sat next to each other in the banquet hall where the ceremony was held. The wooden ski lodge was converted into a grand ballroom, filled with large, white tables covered in white tablecloths. Each spot had an elegant flower arrangement of white lilies, where a place-card with the name of every guest was etched. Past the banquet hall was a stage. Around this stage hundreds of chairs were set up, with the focal point a wedding arch made of draping white silk, interwoven with white roses.

Jared and Jensen exchanged flabbergasted faces, Jared rolling his eyes. The two sat towards the middle back, Jensen using his body to shield Jared from prying eyes of Gen's relatives.   
  
If anybody recognized Jared, nobody said a word. Jensen was grateful for that.   
  
The ceremony was uneventful. Genevieve stepped elegantly down the aisle, hair pinned in loose curls, dress adorned with embroidery and pearls. Even Jensen had to admit she looked breathtaking. Jared's hand, cool and relaxed in his, didn't seem to give away Jared's emotion.   
  
The groom, a conventionally attractive country boy with great teeth, teared up. The passage from Corinthians was read - 'love is patient, love is kind...' Jensen had no idea that Gen was a religious one. Jared, who only shrugged, apparently didn't know that either.   
  
But, despite the flashy nature of the couple, the two truly looked happy. This world - the one covered with lilies and silk, the one in ski lodges and Idaho and astounding amounts of money - suited Genevieve.

Jensen's mind flashed to their simple home, their fridge stocked with great beer, their old cars and half-built deck, their second-hand furniture. Their world in Colorado suited Jensen. Hell, it suited Jared. Much more so than this affair. At least, Jensen hoped.   
  
The food and drinks definitely lightened up the ceremonious monotony.   
  
Jared and Jensen stole flutes of champagne off tables of other guests. With their procured champagne and large plate of ribeye taken from the kitchens, the pair proceeded to scope out the lodge. They couldn't help but giggle like schoolgirls when unsuspecting mothers dragged their children out of the game room as the pair lumbered in. Two well dressed, tall, boisterous men with champagne and red meat, flushed cheeks and laughter that shook the walls - now that was something to be afraid of.   
  
"Was your wedding anything like this?" Jensen snorted out, head leaned into Jared's shoulder on the floor in front of the board game table.  
  
Jared chuckled, looking distantly as if lost in a memory.   
  
"No... not at all. I was doing my residency and was on call damn near every day. One day I got the afternoon off, and we decided to just to do it then - drove to the court house, invited Jeff and some friends from work. Anybody more than an two hours away couldn't make it. We didn't even have a honey moon." Jared signed, hands now stroking Jensen's hair. Jared leaned over and kissed the top of the older man's head.   
  
"She always hated me for that."   
  
Jensen hummed, closing his eyes.   
  
"Did you want this too?" Jensen asked, barely audible.  
  
Jared snorted, causing Jensen's heart rate to spike.   
  
"This shit?" Jared used two fingers to lift up a champagne flute in mockery, acting like it was made for ants.   
  
"Man, I don't give a damn about any of this. I would have passed on years, lifetimes of," Jared waved his hands around and Jensen opened his eyes, watching Jared's profile, his perfect nose and rosy lips, his cheeks which always get pinker even at the whiff of alcohol,  
  
"I'd trade all of it for this moment. Right here."

  
Jared wrapped his arm tightly around Jensen's shoulder and Jensen, uncharacteristically, snuggled into Jared's chest, taking a deep breath of his cologne.   
  
After finishing their steak and champagne, and obviously a quick game of _Sorry!_ which Jensen, as usual, won, the two made their way back to the banquet hall for the inevitable.   
  
For the dreaded 'talking to the bride.'  
  
Jared and Jensen hadn't even spent five minutes in the banquet hall when Gen's gleaming white figure came at them in full speed. Genevieve was beaming, looking happier now than she did at the makeshift alter.   
  
Genevieve went straight for Jared - turned her body away from Jensen and gripped Jared's arm, demanding his full attention.   
  
Only when Jensen started to clear his throat did Gen break eye contact with Jared and turn slightly towards the older man, placing her other hand on his arm.   
  
"I'm so glad you two made it!" Genevieve said, sincerity painted on her face. Jared tilted his head and breathed out deeply. The tension in his shoulders was beginning to disappear. He was standing in front of his ex-wife at her wedding, surrounded by family and friends that once called him one of their own, and he felt - well, he felt okay.   
  
"It was a beautiful ceremony," Jensen interjected, rocking on his heels. His eyes were darting around the room. Jared knew that Jensen was trying to give them room to talk, but he shook his head slightly, hoping that Jensen would notice.   
  
Genevieve smiled bashfully and flashed her ring.  
  
"The Sypeks went all out for this! Its like a fairytale. And just in time, too!" Genevieve laughed as she put her ringed hand on her belly, rubbing slowly in circles.  
  
Jared's face, which was bored moments before, drained of all color. His voice died in his throat as he attempted to croak out, "Congratulations."  
  
Jensen must have sensed it and was at Jared's side immediately, blocking Genevieve from the younger man with his shoulder.   
  
"You must be very happy." Jensen grit out, eyes ablaze. Genevieve pretended not to notice, closing her eyes.   
  
"The happiest! So," she leaned in, almost secretive. It was humorous, really, her figure leaning in to whisper secrets to Jensen and Jared's pecs, but the pair indulged the bride anyway.   
  
"When are the two of you getting hitched?"  
  
It was Jensen's turn to be astounded. He stood there, gaping like she just threw a punch, until Jared threw her a tight smile, the one he always showed when he was annoyed and grabbed Jensen by the shoulders.   
  
"That was fun. We wish you all the best," Jared said insincerely, and began steering Jensen out of the lodge.   
  


"Jared, I'll call you a little bit later and we can chat!" Genevieve called after them. Jensen breathed in deeply.

As Jared was leading Jensen out of the room, he leaned into Jensen's shoulder, kissing his neck gently form behind. The gesture, so open for everybody to see, sent shivers down Jensen's spine. Jared was loose, smiling, warm. Even... well, frisky.

At least the wedding accomplished exactly what Jensen wanted.

And a bit more. 

* * *

 

  
She was rude as hell, but man, she was right.   
  
Jensen shifted his body under the covers so he was facing the sleeping furnace that is Jared Padalecki. Jared was huffing lightly in his sleep, limbs sprawled all over the bed like an octopus.   
  
See, Jensen never thought he wanted to get married. Never even considered it for himself. When he was 'young enough' for such dreams, a man marrying a man was illegal pretty much everywhere. Especially in Houston.   
  
But it was 2018. Even Texas shipped that sail, at long fucking last. And Jensen hadn't wanted it any other way.   
  
Jeff Padalecki was on board too. A few quick phone calls, some to people he hadn't spoken to in years. A specialty metalworking shop in Boulder. A call to a doggy daycare. Towards the end of the day, Jensen had everything set up. Now all it took was getting that gullible oaf to take the bite, as it were.   
  
"Oh man, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Jared basically sang into his phone, walking past Jensen, post-run sweaty and energetic.   
  
Jensen looked at Jared expectantly from the couch. At 39 he was getting far-sighted and had to wear glasses to read again. Jensen thought it gave him an air of mystique, which Jared characteristically adored.   
  
"That was Jeff - Sarah's having a kindergarten graduation party. How do you feel about heading down to Houston for the weekend?"   
  
Jensen chortled all while he feigned annoyed defeat.   
  
"I'll book the tickets," he yelled after Jared as the younger man went to take a shower.   
  
Jensen took out his phone and texted Jeff.   
"Good job, man. See you on the other side."

* * *

  
Jeff greeted the two at the airport. Jensen recoiled a little bit, constantly forgetting about Jeff's size - half a foot taller than Jensen, which was no small feat.   
  
Jeff drove them to his home in the suburbs. The backyard was set up, complete with cake and balloons, tiny benches and makeshift chairs for the kids. Music was playing out of the speakers in the house and half a dozen kids rushed past the men, screaming and chasing each other. Sarah Padalecki stopped for a second in front of her dad and uncle, giving a huge hug to the two.  
  
Only seven years old and already half of Jensen's height. He exchanged bewildered glances with Jared, whose face only looked proud.  
  
At night, Jared, Jensen and Jeff sat around for a second of silence as Karen, Jeff's wife, tucked their kids in for bed.   
  
"You know what?" Jeff wiggled his eyebrows, "You two wanna walk down ol' memory lane? Check up on Lucky Bar?"   
  
Jensen's eyes were trained on Jared, and , as predicted, Jared reacted perfectly. The younger man immediately perked up and was on his feet, walking towards the door as if the task was imperative.   
  
When the three of them arrived, the bar was dark.

And quiet.

Especially for a Friday night. Jensen lead Jared inside, pushing the man playfully into the center of the room. The music was soft blues just like when the two of them came there years ago. But there seemed to be only two lights on in the whole place - one directed at a table in the middle of the restaurant, the other illuminating the nearly empty bar. All other patrons were simply murmuring silhouettes. Jared couldn't make out their faces and Jensen was pushing him along too quickly to try. Jared turned his head, wanting to ask Jeff if the place had taken a dive, but Jeff was nowhere to be seen.   
  
"Where'd Jeff go?" Jared inquired, sitting down at the illuminated table that Jensen had directed him to.   
  
Jensen just shrugged. He looked distracted, a little bit sweaty and avoidant, and took a seat next to Jared slowly, all the while glancing around.  
  
"You okay, man?" Jared asked again, placing a hand on Jensen's clearly shaking ones.   
  
A server that Jared didn't remember, a young woman with short blonde hair, set down a tray next to them.   
  
"Lucky Burger for you, fish tacos... recommended IPA for the gentleman," she said before Jared could protest that they hadn't ordered their food yet.   
  
But... it felt strangely... familiar. The atmosphere, the music, the greasy burger in front of him. Jensen Ackles, his hair now tinged ever so slightly with gray, jittering nervously next to him, so unbelievably beautiful that Jared got chocked up at the memory.   
  
This had to be the worst cases of deja-vu anyone had ever experienced. Ever.   
  
"Jensen - " Jared started, but Jensen shushed him, taking a deep breath. Jensen frowned at the bar floor and before Jared could make a move, Jensen was on his knee in front of Jared.   
  
Jared froze.   
  
"What the hell are you doing, man?" Jared asked, glancing around. The faces were becoming slightly more discernible in the dark, looked almost familiar, but Jared couldn't make them out. All he knew is that they were all staring at him, and at Jensen on one knee in front of him and - _shit_.   
  
"Jared Tristan Padalecki," Jensen started, his voice quivering. Jared's heartbeat skyrocketed and he felt his face heat up with a blush.   
  
"You're shitting me," Jared whispered, so only Jensen could hear. Jensen looked up at Jared for the first time, forest green eyes shimmering and determined, if not darting around in mild embarrassment.  
  
"I know that me and you, we didn't meet in the most conventional way." A few light laughs came from the other patrons.   
  
"Four years ago, a shitty hotshot surgical resident pulled some strings with his older brother to talk to a shitty hotshot surgical oncologist. Now... That same shitty hotshot surgeon is my best friend. More than that. He's the love of my life." Jensen's eyes began to glisten, and Jared had to control himself to prevent tears from spilling from him eyes.  
  
"So maybe we met for all the wrong reasons. Maybe we're both two fucked up guys, probably past our prime. But...Uh. Let me get to the point. I love you. Lets get married."   
  
Jensen rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a ring. It was simple, a broad silver band. He simply handed it over to the quiet Jared, who examined it with wide eyes. Inside the ring was a fingerprint.   
  
Jared remained unusually silent and Jensen began shifting uncomfortably, lifting his knees off the pub floor so he was squatting in front of Jared.   
  
Finally, Jared looked down at Jensen, eyebrows knitted together in concern.  
  
"Are you sure? After everything I did? Do you really want this?"   
  
Jensen slapped Jared on the knee playfully.   
  
"Of course, you monster. Not to get all cheesy - I'm proposing after all," a few gentle cheers came from the patrons, "But all the crazy mistakes and misunderstandings and straight up shit.. you know, they led me to you."  
  
Jared's smile practically broke his face in half as he put the ring on his finger, pulling Jensen up.   
  
"Then hell yeah," he mumbled, already halfway to kissing Jensen. It almost felt like the first time, lips meeting gently, quivering mouths and shaking hands.   
  
The guests of the bar erupted with applause and, as if it was the finale of a show, all the lights in the bar came on. Jared broke the kiss briefly to look around only to meet the eyes of..

Jeff. And his wife Karen. His sister Megan. Misha goddamn Collins, clapping so loud and smiling so wide it could set the room on fire. Danneel Harris. Jeffrey Morgan. Chad was there, looking half elated half annoyed, as was Julie. Jim Beaver and Mark Sheppard stood side by side, raising their drinks to the pair. Even Mackenzie and Josh Ackles were there. Hell, the very pregnant Genevieve and her husband stood in the corner, clapping their hands and staring at the two of them with unexpected affection.   
  
"I have a gift for you," Jensen whispered, directing Jared to the back of the pub. Jared didn't recognize everyone there - their parents didn't know about them yet and some were likely old friends of Jensen's. The woman feeding her baby a bottle was definitely unfamiliar. She was quite petite, with long black hair and almond skin - absolutely beautiful.   
  
She turned around just in time for Jared to get a glimpse of her face and something felt so damn familiar in those big brown eyes - like he'd seen them somewhere before.  
  
She broke in to a smile and immediately hugged Jared, planting a kiss on his cheek.   
  
"I'm sorry, I..." Jared began, but Jensen placed his hand on his shoulder and asked, "Jared. Do you remember Amy?"  
  
Jared almost wanted to collapse to the floor. The woman in front of him was nothing like the frail, defeated girl he saw years ago. She was radiant, powerful, a smiling beautiful goddess with bright eyes, with a baby and...  
  
Jared has barely kept himself together during the proposal, and damn near wept when he saw the loving faces in the crowd - but this? This was over the top. A tear trickled down Jared's face, and then another and he brought Amy in to his chest, hanging on for dear life.  
  
"I can't believe it. I can't believe you're here." Those words were heavy on Jared's tongue, knowing what they meant. She only nodded, almost suffocated by his body.  
  
"You saved my life, Jared," she said, finally, when Jared let go. "Both of you did. The best people in this world. Without you, I wouldn't ever have Alice." She motioned to the crib, toward the chubby baby silently sucking on the bottle and staring up at them with big brown eyes, just like her mother's.   
  
Jared had to blow his nose twice before finally finishing his conversation with Amy. The whole day was pretty damn exhausting, and he was feeling pretty ready to eat that Lucky Burger.

  
But before Jared could make his way back to the table, Jensen stopped him.

"One more surprise." Jensen said, this time more tentatively.   
  
In that exact moment, Chad jumped out from the darkness in a black T-shirt with a small white bleb on the collar.  
  
"Oh no." Jared whispers.   
  
"I got ordained, bitches!"  
  
"Last surprise," Jensen promised, eyes alight. "We COULD get married right now. If you want. Nothing fancy."   
  
Jared smirked, but tried to make his face gravely serious.  
  
"In this seedy dive bar?"  
  
Jensen grinned.

"In this seedy dive bar surrounded by our friends and family with Chad marrying us."

Jared glanced at his old friend, whose amusement seemed to be decreasing exponentially with each passing minute. Finally, Jared leaned back and let out joyful below, the kind that involuntarily came out when he laughed with his whole body.   
  
"Jensen Ross Ackles. This is literally all I've ever wanted."

* * *

  
"What do you think about getting a surrogate? Getting our spunk all mixed and getting a half-us baby?"  
  
Jared paused. Ever since him and Jensen had started renovating the house, putting in the wooden floors, tiling the bathrooms, and now the painting, Jensen had been getting these weird...ideas.  
  
So maybe they had been married for six months and normal couples probably talk about things like that. Normal couples have probably come out to their parents too.   
  
Jared sighed. Jensen _would_ make an amazing dad.  
  
"I'd go for it," Jared said, finally. "But only if its yours. I don't want to put my messed up junk into the mix."   
  
The two were painting the guest bedroom, Jared's old room, blue. The floors were covered in plastic sheets and both men were wearing old sweats and ripped t-shirts, half-covered with paint. Even in that scene, Jared looked morose.  
  
"Why not yours too?" Jensen inquired, stopping his painting and focusing on his husband.   
  
Jared smiled sadly, not looking back at Jensen.   
  
"I had my chance, man. I wouldn't risk that again. Not if my genes are what... are why... Well. You know."  
  
Jensen wanted to argue immediately. Tell Jared that Genevieve hadn't thought twice about it, that she gave birth to a happy and healthy baby boy. They genomed the kid and he didn't have any diseased mutations. It had to mean that Thomas's cancer was a spontaneous mutation, no fault of his parents.  
  
But arguing genetics with a heartbroken surgeon wasn't going to do anything. Besides, there's lots of ways to be fathers without biological children.   
  
"Nah. We'll figure something else out."

* * *

  
Two weeks later, Jensen was ripping up carpet in the guest bathroom and measuring for tiles when Jared ran into the room, out of breath.  
  
"Hey, so - I just got off the phone with Sandy."  
  
Jensen wiped his hand on his T-shirt and looked up.  
  
"Your ex-girlfriend?"   
  
"Yeah, man," and suddenly Jared was talking a mile a minute. "She works at an adoption agency in Los Angeles and I called her, you know, two weeks ago when we were talking about having kids and the wait lists for babies are months long, years long. But she just called and apparently there are two siblings - a bit older, and they don't want to be separated - she was wondering if we'd like to meet them."  
  
"Wow." Jensen held his breath. "Two kids? Jay, you serious?"  
  
Jared's expression faltered.   
  
"I know, I know, its a lot, but... They might get separated and who would be better parents? Than me and you? Plus, I've been through that birth to age 4 phase, and you're not missing anything."  
  
Jensen swallowed deep, looking past Jared's head, deep in thought.  
  
"How old are they? What are their names?"  
  
Jared's smile erupted, the smile that Jensen loved, when Jared scrunched his nose and his lips pointed downward in an effort not to show his teeth. He was blatantly excited and Jared's feeling was seeping into Jensen, too.   
  
"One boy, one girl. Ages 5 and 6. Justice and Shepherd."   
  
At hearing the names, Jensen felt oddly comforted, as if they were familiar to him somehow.   
  
Jensen, Jared, Justice and Shepherd. Their lives were amazing now, the two of them. But Jensen could also imagine himself teaching the kids how to play soccer, how to play the guitar, helping them with homework. How much fun it could be, being a dad.   
  
Being something he never really thought he could be.  
  
"Pretty wild names," Jensen commented, his face scrunched in thought. Jensen's eyes had crows feet, his mouth had smile lines, and this man, whose life was written on his face, was indescribably beautiful to Jared. Jared held his breath.   
  
"Heard the parents were famous. You know those L.A. types."   
  
Jensen nodded.   
  
"Sure do. Yeah, Jay. Lets meet 'em."   
  


* * *

  
Jensen groaned, opening his eyes to bright sunlight streaming through his window. Jared was already out of bed, like the early bird he was. Though, the older they got, the earlier Jensen was getting up too.

Eventually, the two of them were going to pull a Benjamin Button meet somewhere in the middle - with Jensen's slightly older age inching him slightly closer to what might be considered an 'early' time to rise.  
  
Jensen stretched lazily in the bed and sat up, waiting for his body to get used to the rocking. He could hear Jared talking on the phone above the room - so, with the energy Jensen could muster, he shimmied up the narrow stairs above deck.   
  
Jared was dressed in white flowing shirt and khaki shorts, talking at seemingly nothing.   
  
Jensen groaned, noticing that Jared was wearing that silly contraption again. Jared's glasses and earpiece were preventing him from noticing Jensen. Probably prevented him from noticing everything, since the screen took up the whole visual field.

Jensen could never get used to seeing people looking like they spaced out, unfocused but clearly in the middle of browsing, or working, or talking. The 3D age was something else.   
  
"Right, Shep. Good luck on your finals. Yup. Don't worry, we'll be back in time for your graduation. Its a year away! Don't forget to call Jaybird. I can't reach. Right right. I'll call you next week."   
  
Jared pressed a button on his glasses set and the earpiece retracted back into the heavy frame.   
  
"You know I hate those things," Jensen mused. Jared, for the first time, noticed Jensen above deck and threw him a grin.   
  
"And it looks ridicuous when you do that." Jensen concluded. Jared was waving his arms around in front of him - although Jensen knew that Jared was simply using the glasses to close out of the 3D hologram.   
  
Jared removed the glasses and placed them gingerly in his front shirt pocket.  
  
"Okay, okay Grandpa. See? I put the scary technology away."   
  
Jensen licked his lips and approached Jared, easily sliding into a hug.   
  
"How are the kids?" Jensen mused, enveloped in the familiar scent of Jared.   
  
"Shep's getting cheekier the longer he's in school. Law degree. Puh." Jared feighned annoyance.   
  
"JJ's doing her 3rd year rotations. I can't reach her. Especially because I think she's spending these three weeks in South America."   
  
Jensen leaned back and looked over the blue ocean in front of them, gentle waves rocking the boat leasurely. The sun was bright overhead, without a single cloud. It was already nearing the 80's, even though it was probably only 9 in the morning. Back in Colorado, it was December. Say what you want about the wonders of having four seasons - Jensen wouldn't mind keeping the rest of his life living off cool ocean air and sunshine. 

Soon, they would hit reef. Then they'd stop at their next destination. It was about time - their boat was running low on electricity and Jensen's bones were starting to feel a little creaky, despite the medicine patch he'd implanted five years prior to deal with the on setting arthritis.   
  
Twenty years might have passed but they still can't sure that damn arthritis.   
  
A little bit of snorkeling and sun bathing, and a visit to a medical clinic to refill the medicine patch, would do Jensen some good.

Jared was a little younger, but the lines in his face and wrinkles in his forehead were hard to ignore, especially with all the sun. Jensen was mostly gray now, but Jared still kept his youthful appearance with rich brown hair, which he mostly kept in a ponytail. With his flowy clothes and cool grandpa high tech gear, Jared was as charming a cheeky as ever.No matter how the times changed, Jensen could always depend on Jared never being boring. 

And there was definitely nothing wrong with that.

  
The air smelled of salt, the sun was warm, the boat drove itself and here they were. Married for over twenty years. Grown children, sailing around the Carribean, drinking wine, snorkeling, golfing and fishing. Jensen couldn't even imagine this life in his wildest dreams.   
  
At the end of every day, Jensen got to lay down with the man he loved, kiss him tenderly across the neck. The skin, not as elastic, marked with age, was still just as soft, beautiful, irresistible as all those years ago.   
  
Life was damn good.   
  



End file.
